


You and Your Friends

by pipiwasser



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Bertolt can't catch a break, Best Friends, Characters Playing Among Us (Video Game), Comedy, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Deception, Depression, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Heartbreak, High School, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minecraft, Multi, Romantic Comedy, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, high school shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29696277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipiwasser/pseuds/pipiwasser
Summary: Bertholdt Hoover would never wish the life he had on anyone else. Many would call him ungrateful for that, but being a teenage prodigy had always been a curse he could never manage to get rid of. In the midst of his seasonal depression, he meets a peculiar group of people through a multiplayer online game. Bertholdt only wanted a distraction. What he didn't expect to find, were friends.Reiner Braun has always lived life by the seat of his pants. He had everything he could ask for and more. The world appeared to have been handed to him on a silver platter. But no amount of luxuries had ever been able to patch up the hole left by the ghost of his childhood. He'd always believed life to be something mandatory that one was forced to experience against their will. After all, what could be so exciting about spending your whole life at an office job with a nagging wife?That's what he used to think, at least.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Marco Bott & Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Pieck Finger/Porco Galliard, Reiner Braun & Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss, Reiner Braun & Porco Galliard, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Sasha Blouse/Niccolo
Comments: 45
Kudos: 75





	1. Why are Sundays so Depressing?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Welcome to my new work! I've actually never written here on AO3 so bare with me. Anyways, I'm super excited for you guys (if there are even any of you interested in this) to read my story. This is gonna be one of the strangest things I have ever written, since I've been doing angst my whole life. But I was inspired by my own life experiences to make this. It's just a high school fic, with everything that you expect to find in an American high school. Nothing more hehe. There will be many depressing and perhaps triggering moments in this work, as well as comedic instances because what's the point of living without some good laughs? I hope to not make this too philosophical/existential. Anyways, this fanfic will be multiship, but the main relationship and story is centered around Bertl and Reiner.  
> Each chapter title is inspired by a song, which I will also recommend here on the notes section. Have fun, I hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes, please correct me.  
> Chapter Song: Why Are Sundays So Depressing? by The Strokes  
> //CHAPTER WARNINGS// This chapter contains the r-slur, please do not take it out of context or use it in your daily vocabulary.

Nothing had been particularly different about that day. For starters, it was Sunday noon. He only took notice about that particular fact after being greeted with a loud banging on his bedroom door. The loud noise had disturbed his dreamless slumber; his body had flinched like never before, causing him to hit his head on the wall. Flakes of paint came pouring down into his weary eyes, reminding him that he really should stop procrastinating and plaster the chipping already. 

His mother entered at once, having gotten an unsatisfactory reaction from her son. She stood by the doorframe, arms crossed. The women waited for him to finish rubbing his eyes. Her silent presence lingered for longer than it should have. So much that he could perceive her existence to an exaggerated extent. His chest became heavy as he purposefully held his head down for a few seconds too long. 

Now fully awake, Bertholdt became aware of his own heartbeat, and how it beat steadily as it pumped blood into his arteries. One by one, he began to move his fingers over the mattress. The fabric colliding with his fingers; the way the rough carpet felt against the soles of his feet. It was all an agonizing reminder that he was alive. The second his mother and him locked glances, he began to yearn to return to that abysmal state of unconsciousness. Dark, empty, yes. His mind was as desolate as the deepest parts of the ocean. As vacant as the loneliest corners of space. 

But it was peaceful. 

In his slumber, he was not Bertholdt Hoover. He was not the tall, awkward guy with lanky extremities; he was not the champion teenage violinist who practiced for hours each day; he was not the gifted child who everyone expected outstanding marks from. He simply didn’t exist. The atoms that made up his body would become ones with the uninhabited vacuum; free of consciousness, free of expectations. 

Dreaming was only a burden that he did not have the emotional capacity to take on. How could he possibly fall asleep, only to wake up in a completely new reality where everything that felt right during his waking hours, became horribly wrong? Dreaming was for those with a heart of titanium, which he did not have. “Happy place” was the title many gave to that fictional world created by their restless subconscious, filled only with their deepest desires and most cherished memories. Berthold’s happy place had nothing. He would smile at the void, and the void would smile back before engulfing his brain for 7 hours each day. 

But on that day, he’d been pulled out of the abyss. Cruelly yanked away from the darkness he found most solace in. And now he sat in shame, shivering in front of his mother. He knew what was about to come. Though it had happened many times before, he could never really prepare for it. 

“How old are you, Bertholdt?”

He flinched. He definitely had not been expecting that. Most of the time, he’d be scolded loudly. She would yell at him until he did what he was anticipated to do, and like a dog to its owner, he would follow without any complaints. 

“Fifteen…” he mumbled. 

“Louder, boy,” she said emotionlessly. “Stop mumbling every time someone speaks to you. How do you expect others to value your opinion if you can’t even speak right? You’re not retarded, you choose to be like this by your own damn will. Now, answer my question.”

  
  


“I’m fifteen,” he said, pushing the words out from his chest.

She ventured deeper into his room, swiping some dust away from a textbook on his desk. Wandering around, she took note of every imperfection that stood out to her from within his quarter. 

“You’re a young man. Not a boy. Do you think a man like you should be acting like this?”

“What’s wrong with sleeping in? It’s Sunday. Everyone sleeps in during the weekends. No one does anything important today,” he said. 

“Not men like you, they don’t. When will you wrap your head around the fact that you’re not like other kids your age? You’re special,” she replied, frustration lingering within her tone.

She opened the blinds, letting the sunlight in. Each ray that seeped into his room felt like a violent laser, desperate to burn every surface it touched. Bertholdt began dressing himself, in the hopes of avoiding any more pep-talks about irresponsibility. 

“While they’re out there wrestling each other like mindless pigs, you’re doing outstanding things that no human could imagine accomplishing in their whole lives,” his mother gloated. 

Bertholdt dismissed her statement. It was always the same preachy bullshit. No conversation in his household could ever be carried out normally without his parents praising him in the most passive-aggressive way possible. All he could do is sit and listen. He was powerless against their words. Denying it would make him look desperate for compliments, and accepting it would just feed into their obsession even further. He’d learned to shut them out, for his impotence would not help his case, even if his guts ached with rage as they rambled. 

“By the way, don’t forget your medication today, okay?” She said.

“Yes mama,” Berthold said emptily. 

“Yes mama nothing, I want to see you take it right now,” she scolded. 

The floor seemed to vibrate under his feet as his body was possessed by an apprehensive feeling of nausea. His neck began to itch while his mother reached for the two pill bottles on his nightstand. She pushed his water bottle onto his chest; one he always kept nearby in case he got thirsty. Especially in the tyrannical Summer haze; it seemed to mock him every second of his existence by sending hot flashes through his body that almost made him want to faint. 

Bertholdt took the pills with his left hand and brought them close to his lips. He pretended to insert them into his mouth, and then took a swing of water. His mother checked that he had indeed swallowed by having him lift his tongue, even going as far as sticking her index finger inside to inspect the walls of his cheeks. 

“Good job,” she said with a satisfied smile. Bertholdt received a pat on the shoulder. 

His chest stug with guilt. There were very few things he kept secret from his parents. But perhaps the biggest one was his refusal to poison his body with high doses of klonopin and a salad of antidepressants. He was part of that lucky few who experienced side effects like a cargo truck running him over at full speed. He often wondered if it was selfish of him to reject his prescribed medication, which was definitely not cheap. However, having the farmaceutics in his body made him feel like he was trapped in a small metal box, with no holes for air. A box whose walls would gradually decrease in size until his body got compressed into an inhuman pulp. It all came down to deciding between which condition he would rather live with day-to-day. In the end, he chose the feeling of restlessness, like hanging off a cliff with a single tree branch to hang onto, over the living fever dream. 

“Is he up?” He heard his father ask as his mother walked down the stairs. 

He should have felt relieved that his mother hadn’t bossed him around. However, he was left with a lingering remorse. That sensation only increased after he noticed his knuckles had turned white from camouflaging the pills in his fist. 

When walking to the kitchen, he found his father sat at the table, scrolling through some article on his phone. He was immediately greeted with a dry smile from him. Bertholdt only nodded in response before reaching for his favorite cereal from the pantry. 

“No, you’re not having that anymore,” his mother said as she took the box from him.

“Why not? I always eat this for breakfast,” Bertholdt whined.

“That’s the problem. You’re putting on a lot of weight. You need to stay in shape, or you won’t be able to run well anymore,” she said. 

His father scoffed.

“What’s wrong with you, woman? The boy’s a stick,” his father retorted. 

Bertholdt smiled internally. For once, his father was siding with him. 

“He won’t be for long if he continues to eat like he’s 300 pounds. Aren’t you worried about his health?”

“He’s on the track team. He burns all the calories he eats, he’ll be fine,” his father grumbled. 

“Yeah, but not during summer. He’s spent the holidays sleeping and sitting on that computer of his,” his mom argued. She turned to Bertholdt, handing him a bowl of sliced apples. “Here, sit down and eat.”

Bertholdt obeyed in silence as his parents bickered. He nibbled on the fruit, which only made him realize how much he despised apples. 

“Why haven’t you done any exercise all summer long?” His father asked. 

Bertholdt was caught off by the question, let alone the fact that his father had decided to address him in the middle of his discussion with his mom. Bertholdt shuffled around in his chair, stabbing his food mindlessly. He laid his head on the table as he stared at the porcelain bowl.

“I dunno. I’ve been busy with violin. And studying, I guess,” he mumbled. 

His father turned away from him. 

“There you go. It’s not like he’s been completely useless,” he said to the woman. “Speaking of which, are you aware that you have an audition in October?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Bertholdt began to pray to every god in existence for his parents to shut up about his personal life. He knew all of this. He wasn’t some mindless puppet who just went about his life doing what he was told without being conscious of it. He was mindful of every mistake he’d ever made; every responsibility be it small or big. 

“Yeah,” Bertholdt answered.

“And? Have you even chosen your song yet?” 

Bertholdt nodded, going back to stare at the pattern on his bowl. 

“So? Which one is it?”

Bertholdt sat up straight, throwing his head back to let out a loud groan.

“Caprice number 24, can I leave?” He sighed. 

“Seriously? What did Mr. Magath say?” His mother asked. 

Bertholdt stood up angrily. Privacy was the only thing he wanted. Nothing more. He never asked for new clothes, or video games, or even money. The only thing he wanted was the right to keep to himself, which somehow, was the one thing he would never be able to obtain.

“He said it’s fine,” Bertholdt growled before spinning on his heel, back turned towards his parents.

“Hey, since according to you, there is nothing to do today, you’re coming with me to get the groceries,” his mom yelled as he escaped the kitchen.

And so, the boy’s mood became foul for the remainder of the day. He spent the afternoon laying on his bed, looking at the posters on his wall. He stared into the printed eyes of those belonging to the members of the bands residing within the posters. He wondered if men like Jim Morrison had ever felt like disappearing from the surface of the planet. Not necessarily dying, but more so… fading away without a trace; vanishing without anybody remembering who you were. 

But surely people like that never had the burden of living a life so mundanely stressful as his. They were geniuses, but instead of being praised by their intellect, they were loved for their ability to inspire and create. Something that Bertholdt could never do. He could not fabricate something new from the deepest part of his heart, for the ability to observe did not give him the aptitudes required to make something from scratch. Something that reflected who he was and what he felt. 

Which made him podner on a new inquiry:  _ who even was he? _

Well, he knew the literal answer. He was Bertholdt Hoover. Menacingly tall yet could not even stand out in a crowd of twenty. Perhaps even the smart kid who did well at school, or the award-winning child violinist. But on the inside– what was there? He may never find out, but, what he  _ did _ know, were the things that did  _ not _ live within his soul. No songs, no pictures, no dreams, no wishes. He was unable to interpret any metaphysical concepts without them being written on paper for him to read. He could not draw or paint what he imagined; only what he could see in the world around him. He was a logical being to the worst extreme. Everything needed an explanation that was viable. 

Catching a peek of the scenery outside his window, he felt a strong burning inside his core. His backyard, flourishing with beautiful plants and flowers, and in the middle of it all, was a tall tree with a wooden house resting on its large, crooked branches. That used to be his happy place. Now, it was a throbbing memory of the life he once had. 

His father had built it for him when he was 7. Like any child, Bertholdt had watched his father work with stars in his eyes. He’d sit at the base of the tree, looking up with wonder and innocence as his father nailed planks into the bark. The minute it was done, Bertholdt had climbed up the ladder, dumbfounded at how polished the house looked from the interior. He would go on to spend many summer nights inside with his father, reading books or looking at the stars. He recalled the radio he and his father had built when he was 10. He had done most of the electrical work, while the man only supervised him so that he wouldn’t burn himself while welding the cables. 

Once upon a time, Bertholdt would wake up in the tree house, next to his father. His mother would call them inside for breakfast, where they’d eat french toast with home-made jam and honey. Those golden days when summer had tasted like sweet nectar and clear skies. The heat had even been comforting, as it would caress his skin whenever he’d catch fireflies in the dark, snug nights. 

And he’d play his violin inside the house. His parents would sit under the tree, listening to him get excited over mastering particularly complex pieces. He’d peek his head out the window, meeting his mother’s kind smile as she’d blow kisses up at him. 

It all seemed to have happened a century ago. He often found himself asking if those memories even belonged to him. When did things change? But there was no point in asking questions to his ceiling. 

His mother came to get him at around 5PM. He was dragged to the supermarket against his will, although he didn’t do anything to fight back. The ride to the place was silent, for he did not want to engage in a long conversation about music school or his studies. He put in his earbuds and shut his mind out, getting lost in an endless maze of thoughts as George Harrison’s voice blasted against his eardrums. 

He moved like a zombie, following his mother around the vegetable aisle. He held the plastic bags without even being aware of it. The supermarket began to fill up with more and more people. Only then did Bertholdt’s mind decide to jab at his nerves to remind him that he was a breathing organism. He felt a woman’s hand brush against his back on accident. In response, his nervous system did a flip. The crowded place made his heart beat rapidly. His breathing became uneven, so much that it even seemed as though he was out of breath. His muscles tightened, and he became aware of every sound coming from within a 50 meter radius in relation to where he stood. He swallowed hard, shaking his head as he whispered to himself.

‘ _ Not now, not now, not now _ ,” he cursed quietly.

The world around him spun like a top. People shoved him aside, trying to reach for various food items; he was blocking the way. His mother pulled him by the sleeve, unaware of the panic that was coursing through her son’s body. 

“Mrs. Hoover! Bertholdt!”

The pair turned around, coming face-to-face with a middle aged man accompanied by a young, blonde girl. Berthold’s breathing evened out as he forced a smile and a wave. His mother walked up to the man and greeted him with a friendly hug.

“Mr. Leonhart, how lovely it is to see you,” She said. Then she turned to the girl. “Look at you, Annie! You’re turning into a beautiful young woman. How have you been?”

“Fine, thank you,” Annie replied with no emotion to her voice. 

Bertholdt made his way over, sending a shy grin to Annie, who waved back. He was embraced by Mr. Leonhart, who patted his back happily.

“Look at you! It seems like you’ve grown a whole meter over the summer! What have you been up to? It’s been months since you’ve come over for supper,” Mr. Leonhart said.

“I’ve been really busy. Music school is sucking out my soul,” Bertholdt joked nervously.

“Oh I bet, you never get any breaks, do you?” Mr. Leonhart sighed.

As usual, his mom chimed in to brag about Bertholdt’s audition. The tall boy used this as an opportunity to slip away and catch up with his childhood friend. Annie looked as bored as ever. She was kicking around a stray pebble with her foot, not paying any attention to anything happening outside of her personal bubble.

“Hey,” Bertholdt said.

“Hey,” Annie mumbled. “How’s it going?”

“You know how it is. How about you? You haven’t been online lately,” Bertholdt said.

“I went to summer camp. Came back three days ago. I hated it,” Annie said. 

Bertholdt leaned to the side.

“What was the camp for?” He asked.

“Martial arts. My dad didn’t check and well… It was a children’s martial arts camp. I was stuck with a bunch of 3rd graders for two weeks,” Annie said, shrugging.

Bertholdt chuckled. He ruffled her hair playfully. In retaliation, Annie punched him in the arm gently. He’d missed her quite a lot. It had been almost 4 months since he’d last hung out with Annie. 

The pair had been good friends since middle school, which was around the time Bertholdt had stopped being homeschooled. Often finding himself blaming his social inadaptability on his early education, Bertholdt was glad that Annie had been the first person he’d met. Both quiet, confused children who refused to interact with others, though the two had vastly contrasting reasonings behind their behavior. 

It did not take long for them to grow comfortable around each other, or at least, in Bertholdt’s case, to gain trust in Annie. Conversations with her were mostly one-sided. He talked about his feelings, and she listened. As of recent years, she’d started opening up more, and even engaging in deeper discussions.  
  


“What classes are you taking this year? Is your mom still forcing you to fill your schedule with ridiculous courses?” Annie asked.

“Ugh, yes! I’m taking A.P. music theory, physics, calculus, and German language & culture,” Bertholdt groaned. 

Annie let out a scuff of disbelief.

“Wow. And all those are A.P. courses?” 

Bertholdt nodded.

“Sheesh. Good luck trying to get any sleep. I’m only taking one A.P. class this year, and I don’t think I’ll even be able to pull it off,” Annie said as she pulled a loose string from her shirt. 

Annie and Bertholdt left the store, seeing how their parents were deep in conversation. They sat outside on a bench, staring into the parking lot. The sky was as blue as ever. It would not set for another two hours or so. Annie pulled her knees close to her chest, sitting in fetal position as she chewed on her fingernails. Bertholdt stared at her for a good while, how her messy blonde hair obstructed her eyesight from half of her face. Her knees were red and scraped, possibly a souvenir from her summer camp getaway. 

“This will be our second to last year. Then… we’re off to college… what do you think about that?” Bertholdt asked. 

Annie brushed her hair out of her bouth, tucking it behind her ear.

“Just another year for me. Every day is the same. You and I have never had lunch together. I always sit alone,” she said. “Guess it’s one more year of being friendless for you and I.”

“Maybe not.”

Annie raised her brow, turning her attention to her tall friend.

“You remember the girl I told you about? The one who I talk to at the conservatory?” Berthold asked.

“Yeah, the one from Marley Prep?” 

“Mm-hmm. She’s transferring to our school. Maybe we’ll be able to hang out with her. She’s nice. I already see her very often because Mr. Magath wants her to be my accompaniment,” Bertholdt said. “I wouldn’t mind being around her at school too.”

“Is she annoying?” Annie asked. 

“No. She’s chill,” Bertholdt replied.

Annie relaxed her posture, sinking into the bench.

“I see. That’ll make three of us then. Alone together.”

Bertholdt nodded. 

“Will you be online tonight? We should play something,” Bertholdt suggested. 

Annie chuckled.

“I don’t want to play Among Us or chess anymore. Pick something good and I’ll consider,” she laughed. 

Her smile, like nothing he had ever seen before. Rare as alexandrite and graceful like a dove. When was the last time a genuine smile had been offered to him? Her chapped lips stretched into a wide, crooked grin as she punched him in the arm. He couldn’t deny it; she was beautiful. The most bewitching soul he had ever met. She was his soulmate. 

Nevertheless, whenever he thought about holding her hand or kissing her lips, he could never imagine himself doing it. He’d never understood why. In his eyes, Annie was the perfect girl. Her hooded blue eyes, her hooked nose, her thin hair, her bruised knuckles. She was almost artistic in her appearance. Yes, she was the most perfect woman in the world. 

But not for him. 

How he longed for the feeling of wanting to be hers. The sensation of being so enamoured it makes you cry. He’d read about it in books. How men fall in love with delicate young women, and you women fall in love for kind, charming guys. It was a beautiful concept. Something so far away, it almost gave the impression of being fictional. And to a certain extent, it was. 

Did his parents really love each other? Or were they just together for his own sake? Annie’s father… he wasn’t married. He’d never been seen around town with another woman. And yet he seemed happy. So why was it that every romance novel always portrayed love as a bare necessity? Something crucial that human happiness depended on?

“Say, Annie… what do you want to do after we graduate?” Bertholdt asked.

“Stay with my dad,” she said. “You?”

Berthold sat in silence for a few seconds, processing his answer. What did he want to do with his life? There were so many things, so many opportunities. Yet none of them screamed his name. Wherever he was to end up, he would only be a sheep following the crowd. He’d only be there to study what was previously discovered before. And for what? To land a lousy, low-paying teaching job at some community college? Or to end up like Mr. Magath– a man who wasted his youth in the army only to later discover his true passion– when it was already too late? Bertholdt couldn’t imagine starting his “dream job” at the ripe age of 45. That’s a whole lifetime wasted doing nothing. 

“I… go to Harvard perhaps? Or maybe I will join the Berlin Philharmonic…”

“I asked about what  _ you _ wanna do. Not your parents.”

“Um… die at 30,” he replied. 

Annie rolled her eyes.

“Again with this?” She mumbled. 

Bertholdt didn’t answer. Annie punched his shoulder, this time with more strength. Berthold whined as the pain hit, rubbing the affected area with his hand.

“What?” Berthold whined. “I’ve told you many times, Annie, what even is there after you turn 30? Daily chiropractor visits? Herpes? That’s  _ so _ exciting, isn’t it?”

“You’re a real phenomenon. It doesn’t matter how old you are. 30 or 24 or 15, you’ll still feel miserable. It’s all the same. A year is just a way us chimps keep tally marks on how much closer to death we are. It changes nothing about how you feel. If you hate yourself now, you’ll hate yourself then.”

“That’s such a pessimistic philosophy,” Bertholdt said.

“And yours isn’t?”

Bertholdt rested his chin on the palm of his hand.

“Touché,” he mumbled in defeat. 

“You really need to leave the house more. You look so pale and malnourished. Are your parents holding you hostage?” Annie asked.

“Kinda.”

She shook her head and stood up. At that very moment, Mr. Leonhart and Bertholdt’s mother walked through the doors with their groceries neatly packed in their respective shopping carts. Annie gave Bertholdt a pitiful glance. She ran a hand through his hair, messing it up beyond repair. 

“See ya next week. Your mom will probably want us to walk together on the first day of school,” Annie said before running off with her father. 

Bertholdt skipped dinner that night. The feeling of emotional emptiness filled up his stomach more than a five course meal ever could. He felt even lonelier now that he’d finally seen his friend. Those few moments of companionship reminded him of how isolated he’d been for the past months. His house was dark, as his parents refused to waste more electricity than needed. The hallways appeared to stretch for longer than they should, and his footsteps made no sound when he made his way to the kitchen to fill up his water bottle. 

He needed something, anything to save him from his despair. It was an excruciating pain that made him feel like he was stuck in a time loop; falling into a hole, coming out the other end, only to trip into the same hole he’d fallen into many times before. He locked himself inside his room, sitting in front of his computer as tears rolled down his cheeks. He stared emptily at the screen, sobbing quietly. A message appeared from his Discord notifications.

**a67530286 today at 11:47 PM**

_ Fine. Let’s play whatever u want. U looked miserable today. _

Bertholdt smiled to himself, wiping his eyes and nose with the collar of his shirt. With that, he typed back. 

**berturtle1 today at 11:48 PM**

_ Thank u :) 1 round of among us and then we can play minecraft? _

**a67530286 today at 11:48 PM**

_ Bed wars?  _

**berturtle1 today at 11:49 PM**

_ ye _

**a67530286 today at 11:48 PM**

_ Ok. Anyways, what’s the code? _

**berturtle1 today at 11:49 PM**

_ Haven’t even opened the game give me a sec _

He began running the program on his computer, waiting for it to load. It definitely wasn’t his favorite video game, but something about outsmarting 13 year olds on public servers made him feel a tinge of delight. Besides, he and Annie could have good laughs after watching said 13 year olds rage quit after being called “sus” as a joke. 

When the game launched, he searched for a server that had enough space for two players. Unfortunately, the only one he could find was titled “ballsack”, and once he joined, there was no going back. He sent the code to Annie, and immediately after, the server filled up to the maximum capacity. Many of the players began spamming “start” in the chat, until the creator of the server finally started the game. 

Impostor. 

Why was it that every time he opened the game with the intention to play casually and just waste his brain cells, he got impostor? Regardless, he decided to take it easy. He was only there to have fun and cheer himself up. It was working, because the player named “ballsack” also got impostor. 

He moved his blue character swiftly across the map, faking tasks like a professional and sabotaging the lights while his partner did the dirty work. He himself even got two kills, one of them being Annie. Not once did anyone suspect them, except for the person playing as cyan, who cried wolf multiple times during the meeting, yet was dismissed by the other players.

In the end, it was a victorious roud, with him and the other impostor having wiped out all of the crewmates. Once the game ended, the chat began to blow up as other players congratulated them on their win. A few had exited the game, and while they waited for the room to fill up once more, Bertholdt decided to engage in conversing with the others.

**T3rror1st**

_ Hey, GG, that was amazing howd yall do it _

**ballsack**

_ 1000 iq hehe fr tho that was awesome. We make a good team, blue  _

Bertholdt grinned, overwhelmed by the stranger’s kindness. He felt pathetic. No sane human being would get so excited over a compliment from someone under the alias “ballsack.”

**turtle**

_ Thanks :) _

**ocean man**

_ literally screw all of u, i told u it was them and yall didnt listen _

A new player suddenly joined the lobby, changing their color to orange and picking the cowboy hat as their accessory. The player joined the chat. 

**JoeExotic**

_ what yall talking about, who tf is ballsack _

**ballsack**

_ Das bin ich  _

**JoeExotic**

_ please speak american mr hitler youth _

**ballsack**

_ Damn bitch who hurt u _

**JoeExotic**

_ no one hoe, start the game _

**ballsack**

_ no we need more people _

**JoeExotic**

_ 7 is enough, start the game _

The other player in the server, who hadn’t shown any signs of life until this point, decided to finally voice their opinion.

**Vote Me**

_ start _

**ballsack**

__ stfu connie   
  


**Vote Me**

_ way to doxx me  _

__

At this point, Bertholdt had a hand pressed over his mouth to prevent himself from bursting out in laughter and disrupting his parents. His abdomen hurt from the silent wheezing as he watched the conversation go down between these strangers.

__

**a67530286 today at 12:19 AM**

_ You picked the worst lobby. _

__

Bertholdt skimmed through Annie’s message, giggling a bit before returning his attention to the lobby’s chat.

__

**JoeExotic**

_ who tf is white, speak up dude _

__

**a**

_ no _

__

Another player joined the lobby, already in the color pink with the angel halo as a hat. 

__

**christaL**

_ Hiiiiiiiiii _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ Omg stfu  _

__

**ballsack**

_ hey stop being rude orange _

__

**ballsack**

_ Hi pink :) _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ the pick me girl and the simp, how cute. start the game. _

__

**christaL**

_ Why am I a pick me, what did I do wrong? _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ are u one of those “gamer girls”? _

__

**ocean man**

_ uhhhh not to be that guy but you’re kinda being an incel, orange _

__

**christaL**

_ I can literally kick your butt idc if i get imposter or crewmate _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ bring it hoe _

__

Bertholdt hadn’t even noticed the two new players that had joined the lobby. Not until the game started, at least. Once again, he was assigned the role of impostor, alongside pink. And once again, it was an almost clean victory for the pair, except for his partner getting voted out when there were four remaining. He gave himself a metaphorical pat on the back as the victory card was shown on the screen. 

__

**T3rror1st**

_ hey what gives, lime? I was literally not sus and u called the first meeting to vote me out, not cool _

__

**shawty**

_ your name sucks _

__

**crustacean**

_ gg guys _

__

**ballsack**

_ yeah gg, you’re so good at being impostor, blue. I kinda knew it was u and pink but that was still amazing _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ wtf pink why did u make them vote me out second _

__

**christaL**

_ just 4 funsies  _

__

**turtle**

_ nice job, pink, you’re rlly good  _

__

**ballsack**

_ hey pink and blue are u two girls? _

__

Bertholdt bit his cheeks to hold in his laughter again. He received an instant message from Annie on discord.

__

**a67530286 today at 12:51 AM**

LMAOOOOOOOOOO

__

**turtle**

_ no am boy _

__

**christaL**

_ creepy much? anyways Im a girl. how old r u guys _

__

**T3rror1st**

_ 15 :3 _

__

**ballsack**

_ 16 _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ 49 _

__

**crustacean**

_ tf??? ballsack kick JoeExotic he’s being toxic _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ Im literally a girl im 16 yall are dumb _

__

**christaL**

_ stop being mean??????¿¿¿¿¿¿¿ _

__

**ballsack**

_ bye joe _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ No wait ill be nice  _

__

**ballsack**

_ Youre on thin fucking ice _

__

In the end, they ended up playing a couple more rounds, late into the early hours of the morning. Bertholdt had never had so much fun with a lobby as much as he had with that one. Even Annie had decided to stick around for every single game, though she was not really trying to win or lose. In fact, Bertholdt had believed her to be faking tasks multiple times when in reality she’d just been parading through the map with no real purpose. 

__

Bertholdt checked his clock and held in a gasp when seeing how late it was. If he didn’t get any sleep now, his mother would be furious at him sleeping in two days in a row. 

__

**turtle**

_ Guys i gtg :( its rlly late where i live _

__

**Ballsack**

_ aww no :(  _

__

**T3rror1st**

_ yea its super late where i live too, i think im finna dip _

__

**shawty**

_ pussy, it’s 3:27am where i live, im sticking around _

__

**T3rror1st**

_ Im in the same time zone as u wtf  _

__

Everyone in the lobby followed T3rror1st’s statement by typing “same” in the chat. All except for Annie, who was probably already asleep on her desk. 

__

**christaL**

_ aww shucks im really gonna miss this lobby :( you guys were so fun to play with _

__

**ocean man**

_ Me too :( _

__

**ballsack**

_ wait. yellow, brown, and I have a discord server. Yall wanna join to play again sometime? _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ thats fucking lame. Im in.  _

__

**ballsack**

_ just to make sure: none of u are over 18 right? Ion want any creepy mfs in my server _

__

**JoeExotic**

_ Im actually 87 sorry for lying _

__

**christaL**

_ please make an exception for this stinky old hag _

__

**ballsack**

_ will do. here’s the link. _

__

Bertholdt promptly copied and pasted it onto his browser the second it was sent. He said his farewells in the Among Us lobby, and excitedly waited for the new page to load. He felt warm inside, not only because of the temperature, but for various reasons too. He had one week left of summer vacation. And now he had a good way to spend it. Even if his newfound online friends had lied about their ages, he did not care. He finally had people who he’d be eager to talk to and interact with. It was exactly what he’d been crying out for. A distraction; something to bring even the tiniest smile to his face. 

__

Bertholdt looked through the channels on the server, laughing at their titles. He guessed that most were inside jokes between the three friends. He took note of the fact that the main one was titled “Reiner’s Brothel” followed by a cocktail of out-of-context emojis.

**MY DRIP today at 3:34 AM**

_ Welcome. B4 u guys do anything just tell us your first names bc im not addressing any of u by “L1vingAb0rt1on” or shit like that _

__

**L1vingAb0rt1on today at 3:35 AM**

_ rude. im Ymir aka JoeExotic  _

__

**QueenChrista3 today at 3:35 AM**

_ my name is christa :·) also wth is that username Ymir _

__

**L1vingAb0rt1on today at 3:35 AM**

_ art _

__

**G3noc1deB0mb today at 3:36 AM**

_ Eren  _

__

**DrugstoreCowboy21 at 3:36 AM**

_ Im jean and holy shit your name sucks even more on here  _

__

**G3noc1deB0mb today at 3:37 AM**

_ Drugstore cowboy? Srsly? Thats fucking dumber, look whos talking _

__

**potato girl today at 3:37 AM**

Im sasha hehe welcome to our server

__

**avatar aang today at 3:38 AM**

Connie and what she said ^^^^

__

**MY DRIP today at 3:40 AM**

_ Im reiner nice 2 meet u guys. Im changing everyone’s names btw, is there anyone else who hasn’t said anything? _

__

**Fire_Fish today at 3:40 AM**

_ Im armin xD _

At last, Bertholdt began clicking his fingers against his keyboard, with the most idiotic smile plastered across his face. He discerned that Annie hadn’t yet joined, which confirmed his theory that she had in fact fallen asleep.

__

**berturtle1 today at 3:41 AM**

_ I’m bertholdt :) _

__

**MY DRIP today at 3:42 AM**

_ aight cool, well, welcome! Hope we get to know each other n shit, if u wanna add ppl just send them the link _

__

Everyone’s atrocious usernames had been changed.

__

**Eren today at 3:43 AM**

_ Thanks dude! GN everyone, talk to u soon ig  _

__

**Armin today at 3:45 AM**

_ Gn guys, twas fun playing with u _

__

They exchanged their goodnights, and the majority of the new members went offline. Bertholdt was about to do the same, until he received a message through his private chat. His heart started doing flips as he read the text one too many times. 

__

**Reiner today at 3:50 AM**

_ Hey, Bertholdt, right? Hope you don’t find this creepy, but you’re the best impostor I’ve ever played with. U seem cool hehe, lmk if you wanna chat.  _


	2. Being So Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner reconnects with a long-lost friend and reflects about his life. But after said encounter with said friend, he is left without any air conditioning and a broken generator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy welcome back for chapter two of the story! This one is in Reiner's point of view. I don't really have any warnings for this chapter except maybe usage of drugs and underage drinking but it's very mild.   
> CHAPTER SONG: Being So Normal- by Peach Pit.

“Galliard…?”

The two boys stared at each other, unblinking and in sheer awe. Porco stood on Reiner’s front porch, arms hanging loose at his sides. Reiner struggled to speak, as the words had gotten lost in a tangle inside his throat. He’d been expecting a package that day. So when the doorbell had rung, he’d left the spot on his bed and dashed down the stairs. He’d hoped to see the delivery man, with a large cardboard box in his hands asking the blonde for his signature. But seeing Porco was something he definitely couldn’t have predicted in a million years. 

The shorter of the two took a step back, almost tripping over a clay pot. Reiner eyed his body language, but could not come to an exact conclusion as to why his old acquaintance was sweating bullets as his pale face turned scarlet, slowly but surely. Porco stared at him sharply, not shifting his pupils away from Reiner’s physique. 

“What are you doing here?” Reiner finally managed to ask. 

Porco swiftly shifted his gaze towards the floor. He let out an uptight scoff as he muttered something under his breath, which Reiner did not manage to decipher fast enough. The shorter male turned around without a war, marking his exit as he continued to mumble to himself. Reiner noticed the painfully red sunburn that covered Porco’s back, which was made visible by the white muscle tank he had on. Reiner did not possess the self control to keep quiet and not chuckle about it.

“I like your third degree burns,” Reiner joked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Porco began to walk faster, jogging down Reiner’s driveway in utter embarrassment. His humiliation was so great, he didn’t even notice the overgrown root sticking from a crack in the pavement. He hooked his foot inside the loop the tuber had formed, and as a result, he was sent tumbling down face-first into the concrete. Reiner’s howls of laughter could be heard from a whole block away, as his body contorted from cackling so hard. 

Porco lifted himself up as vigorously as possible, facing Reiner with the angriest, most foul look the blonde had ever seen. Porco marched towards him, cracking his knuckles as he prepared to deliver a blow to Reiner’s visage. 

“Dude, no, wait,” Reiner said as his laughter died. “Your leg is bleeding, Jesus, man, a bit of skin came off.”

Reiner pointed to the other’s shin. When Porco noticed, he began to curse loudly as he dropped to his knee, holding his leg with his hands. Reiner rushed indoors to get the first aid kit as loud wails echoed through his house. He helped Porco sit down on the bench on his porch, and proceeded to soak a piece paper towel with rubbing alcohol. Though, before he could even touch it to his friend’s leg, Porco snatched the bottle of ethanol right from his grasp. He poured the liquid over his wound, letting out a scream as it seeped into his torn flesh. Reiner winced, cringing at what he imagined Porco was feeling.

Porco gagged loudly; a reflex response to the burning sensation. Reiner watched the other boy’s head begin to loll around, a sign that he was either about to faint or vomit. He did the only thing he remembered from a first aid class he’d once taken when he was 12. Pressing the soaked paper towel to Porco’s nose like he was about to chloroform him, Reiner watched as the other inhaled the smell. Color returned to his within seconds, and he slapped Reiner’s hand away as he rubbed his nose. 

“Thanks I guess,” Porco said abruptly.

“Yeah. Whatever. Here, you might want to wrap that up,” Reiner replied as he handed Porco a roll of bandages. 

The air had gone silent. Neither of them spoke to the other while Porco binded up his leg. Reiner could only stare at him in disbelief, still trying to process whether he was hallucinating the whole occurrence, or if Porco was actually there in the flesh. It had been over a year since he’d last seen him. Reiner, alongside with many others, thought that Porco had died, or gotten kidnapped, or even got arrested, since Porco had cut contact with everyone, including his own family. 

Reiner was glad to see him, in a twisted way. He and Porco had never been “best friends” or even remotely close. Reiner only knew of the other’s existence through his friend Marcel, who just happened to be the older sibling of this abomination of a human. Porco was a bully in the purest form. He’d made Reiner’s life a living hell when they were children. Though the harassment had considerably toned down. However, even as teenagers, Porco had made a point to flirt with the girls Reiner liked just to piss him off. It was the subtle agressions that made Reiner resent him. But the minute Porco had gone M.I.A., those feelings of begrudgement had ceased to exist. He’d spent a whole year hoping to hear from Porco, at least once more in his lifetime.

Reiner inhaled, parting his lips to break the silence. Porco beat him to it.

“I came back a month ago,” Porco said. 

“Oh. I see. How’d France treat you?” Reiner asked.

Porco chuckled, shaking his head. The way his smile quivered at the corners of his mouth; he was forcing it, Reiner could tell.

“Too good to be true,” Porco said.

“You went to study abroad and went radio silent for a whole year. What exactly did you do while you were there? Did you run away? What the hell happened, man?”

Porco rolled his eyes.

“I wanted to forget about this damn place and all the idiots who live here,” Porco said. “It’s really not that deep. All I wanted was a year without any of you shitheads plaguing my head.”

Reiner leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms behind his head. He looked at the clouds, or better yet, the lack thereof. There was nothing to shield the city from the sun’s wrath. No wonder Porco was as red as a tomato. 

“Your family was worried, you know.”

“Well, they shouldn’t have been. The school updated them every now and then on my whereabouts. They sent me money each month. Do you think if I had died, they would’ve still sent me cash? What’s a corpse gonna do with 200 monthly Euros?”

Reiner felt a growing rage within his chest. Each word that came out of Porco’s mouth made him want to rip his friend’s bandages off and pour lime juice over his wound. He could sympathize with Porco to a certain extent, about not wanting to be around certain people. Reiner was the same. There were many individuals from his town that he’d rather not spend even a single second near them. But what he couldn’t comprehend, was Porco’s disdain towards his own family. What was so atrocious about one’s parents being worried for their wellbeing? It indignated Reiner to the core.

“What about Marcel? He was really fucking stressed.”

“You’re so dumb. I wouldn’t ghost my own brother even if my life depended on it.”

“What a hypocrite. That’s exactly what you fucking did!” Reiner said, raising his voice as he became restless.

“Marcel is a good actor. He’d do anything for me. I made him promise not to tell anyone that I was still talking to him,” Porco chuckled, picking some food residue from his teeth.

“You fucking asshole,” Reiner growled under his breath.

“I made him update me on how worried you were about me,” Porco giggled. 

Reiner grabbed the other by the collar of his shirt, dismissing every single good thought he’d ever had about Porco in an instant.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Reiner yelled.

Porco only shot him a smirk before prying Reiner’s fists off him.

“Because I wanted to see if you cared about me,” Porco said. 

Reiner shot him a disgusted glance before standing up, taking the first aid kit with him.

“Jesus, this is why you’ve never had a girlfriend,” Reiner said.

Porco grabbed his wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re just gonna leave me out here? I’m crippled, have some sympathy!”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Ask my mom or my aunt if they want to give you a ride when they get home. They won’t be here until 8 though,” Reiner said as he began to close his front door. “Have fun explaining your little prank to them.”

“Damn Reiner, you’ve changed. How pathetic. What happened to the old you? The Reiner who always cried when his ice cream fell. The Reiner we all knew and loved,” Porco said. 

Reiner shot him a final glance swarming with conflicting emotions. The front door became a barrier between him and his long-lost comrade. The blonde thought about Poroc’s statement as he made his way down the stairs, to the basement where his bedroom was located. What right did Porco even have to criticize him? 

Reiner’s mind simmered with vexation and utter inner confusion. For starters, he could not find a reason as to why Porco had even decided to visit him. It wasn’t usual of him to do such a thing, at least not from what Reiner remembered. The blonde picked up a small polaroid photo that lay hidden under his lamp. It was a picture of him, Porco, and Marcel at football practice. Reiner had never liked that photo. He hated his appearance at the moment it was taken– so thin and devoid of any charisma. Of course, that picture had been from their middle school days. And it had served as a mnemonic symbol of his then emotional and physical weakness. He’d been foolish–– like a mindless puppy always trailing behind them.

He’d always been like that. He’d done everything in his power to make his family proud. To make everyone cheer for him. What he’d longed for was applause– yet upon receiving it, he’d feel disgusted with himself for yearning for the impossible. Each accomplishment only raised everybody’s expectations of him. And he’d always ended up disappointing everyone eventually. He’d do everything in his hands to prevent the unavoidable, only bringing more pain upon himself and his family.

He could still picture the look on his father’s face on that fateful day. Reiner had woken up that morning to find his father by the door, suitcase in hand. His mother, sobbing on the floor; she did not stop him, or beg him to stay. It had been as though all the energy had been drained out of her body, not even having enough remaining strength to open her mouth and tell her husband to stay. 

Reiner had followed his father to his car, screaming with tears in his eyes as the vehicle rumbled to life. The blonde had hugged his father’s leg, pleading like his life depended on it. The other did not even look at him. He’d simply kicked his son away before finishing his dry departure. Reiner had chased the vehicle through the snowy streets of the small German village. His shoeless feet ached from frost bites after sprinting for almost two kilometers. The neighbors had watched with pity, yet decided to ignore the small child screaming for his father for the sake of their own emotional wellbeing.

Throughout the following months, Reiner would find himself sitting by his window, staring at the empty driveway. He’d often hallucinate the old BMW parked outside his house; his father exiting, briefcase in hand, only to never hear the jingling of his keys.

Those memories were the most painful ones out of all of them. He was never able to make his father proud, or give him a reason to say. He’d simply been a burden for the man; like a stranger who happened to have lived under the same roof as him. 

Everything made him remember his father. The holes in the wall, which his mother had covered up with paintings; the cellar, where his father kept his expensive wines; the garage, which was still home to his father’s tools. It all stunk of the man who disappeared. Even his hometown began to feel like a phantasmagoria of horror and melancholy. Those same stone roads where his father had once taught him how to ride a bike appeared desolate; like a ghost of what was there a long time ago. 

The recollections became so painful for the duo that they decided to run away the following year. Reiner’s aunt and uncle had already emigrated only a few months before. They already had a house, and rumor had it that Reiner’s aunt was pregnant with her first child. It didn’t take any more convincing for them to sell their old house and leave. 

Reiner threw the polaroid in his trash can, wondering if his mother had done the same with the photographs of his father. He’d spent countless nights staring at that image, praying for once in his life that Porco was alive and well. Something about the thought of his childhood bully being dead had made him feel sick to the stomach, almost as though it had been his fault that Porco had gone missing. Like all those years of hatred had shaped his friend’s fate into one that was not favorable. 

But it was no use, dwelling on the past. There were bigger things to be concerned about, like getting into college. He hadn’t even considered any plausible schools yet, for he’d been more or less ignoring the advice or his counsellors and waiting for the last moment to apply to whichever school his mother chose for him. It did not really matter to him anyway whether he got into Ivy League or not. What difference would it make? He’d be bound to end up working a 9 to 5 at some big time company in an office. He’d have a family to provide for, which perhaps, was the only thing that excited him. Reiner did not really care about who he’d end up marrying. His only requirements were that she’d have to be pretty and nurturing. All he really wanted was a daughter or a son that he could spoil and play with on the weekends.

He would watch his children grow up happily and fall into the curse of capitalism, just like him. They’d go to college and get jobs, and then take care of him when he became senile. Reiner would die alone in a nursing home. Alone, but in peace. And his children would go on to have offsprings of their own, and the cycle would repeat infinitely. In the end, Reiner would’ve fulfilled his life mission to reproduce and do everything expected of a middle-class man. While he was not necessarily thrilled by that idea, he did linger too much on letting it upset him. 

A buzzing from his phone returned his attention to the real world. He unlocked it, seeing who it was, from, and smiled instantly.

**Gabi at 4:14PM**

_ My dad says we’re gonna b home rlly late. He says he left u some money in case you wanna order sushi or something  _

Reiner began to type with a grin. Talking with his cousin always put him in a very good mood. Although sometimes it bothered him that his aunt and uncle had given Gabi access to technology at such a young age. 

**Reiner at 4:14PM**

_ K, that’s fine, tell him I said thanks. By the way… you’ll never guess who showed up today... _

**Gabi at 4:15PM**

_ Was it Falco again? Ughh he knows I’m busy on weekdays why does he do this >:(!!! _

**Reiner at 4:15PM**

_ Not this time. It’s Porco. He’s alive apparently. _

Reiner watched as Gabi began to type, but went silent. Then, she resumed the action yet went silent once again. This repeated for a while until Reiner’s phone finally received an incoming call. 

“Reiner are you serious? What do you mean Porco is back? How do you know?” Gabi screamed loudly.

“Yeah! He was outside my door a few minutes ago! Not sure why he even chose to pay me a visit but I’ll explain everything later–”

A loud rumbling came from outside, so obnoxious that Reiner had to cover his ears. He instantly dashed out of his bedroom, recognizing that sound all too well. He cursed to himself as he climbed the stairs and almost threw himself out the back door, breaking the mosquito net out of the frame in the process. He ran to the side of his house, where Porco sat next to the generator with pliers in his hands. 

“What’s going on?” Gabi yelled through the phone. “Is that the generator?”

“Give me a second!” Reiner said. He turned his attention to Porco. “ _ DUDE _ . What the fuck are you doing?”

“I wanted to get your attention!” Porco yelled over the sound of the metallic growls.

“Move aside!” Reiner screamed as he began examining whatever deformities Porco had inflicted upon the large machine. The damage done on the generator was beyond severe to be put through immediate repair. It would take at least five hours to be able to somewhat restore it to its original state. Reiner had no choice but to unplug it to at least stop the noise from disrupting his neighbors. 

“What happened?” Gabi asked.

“Porco broke the generator!” Reiner screamed into the phone.

Gabi’s end of the line went silent. Reiner felt like he was being choked by death himself, knowing that his mother would be beyond pissed. But then Gabi broke out in violent bursts of laughter. Porco shot him a smirk as he heard the girl’s giggles from the phone.

“Put him on speaker!” Gabi wheezed.

Before Reiner could even protest, Porco crawled over to him and practically tackled the taller male down by throwing his whole body weight at Reiner. He snatched the phone from his hands and rolled onto the grass. Reiner was in shock, and could only watch as Porco chatted it up with his cousin. 

Meanwhile, Reiner retrieved the tool kit from the shed, sitting by the generator and examining the wounded circuits. As he began twisting and flattening cables, he could hear his friend laughing and telling Gabi about his misadventures in the city of lights. He spoke of all the girls whom he’d conquered but then forgot about, and the delicious foods he had eaten. And of course, he bragged about his achievements at school and in the various sports teams he’d joined. Reiner rolled his eyes, focusing on repairing the generator as quickly as possible. 

He did not even notice that Porco had hung up the call. Reiner’s brain was going on a rampage about everything Porco managed to do in the past hour, which was, above all, testing his patience. Reiner had always thought of the other as a worthy opponent; somewhat of an equal whom he could learn from and compete with. But now, more than ever, Porco had made it evident that he did not think of Reiner like that too. Reiner had been a circus act to Porco all this time, and he’d been too dense to pay any mind to it. 

“Hey who’s Bertholdt?” Porco asked. 

Reiner snapped around.

“Are you going through my phone?” Reiner asked, annoyed. 

“Yeah. I’m trying to find your porn gallery to see what kinda weird twisted shit you’re into.”

“Give that back,” Reiner growled, reaching for his cellphone. 

“This dude Bertholdt just texted you, who is he? Is he your boyfriend? Why are you guys chatting through Discord?” Porco said mockfully. 

“Eww, no, I’m not fucking gay. He’s just some guy I met in a public lobby,” Reiner retorted as he took back his phone. 

“Whatever you say,” Porco said.

Reiner’s eyes scanned his conversation with Bertholdt from the night before, down until his most recent message. Reiner’s eyes widened as he read what Porco had texted back in his stead.

**Bertholdt today at 4:58PM**

_ Doing anything fun today? :D _

**Reiner today at 5:01PM**

_ Jerking off  _

“Galliard what the fuck is wrong with you! Why did you text him that?” Reiner screamed.

“Because it’s funny,” Porco replied as he rested his arms behind his head, making himself comfortable on the grass.

Reiner quickly typed an apology.

**Reiner today at 5:07PM**

_ I am so sorry for that, my friend took my phone, I’m not joking. And to answer your question, nah, nothing cool planned for today RIP. _

**Reiner today at 5:07PM**

_ Hbu? _

“So are you gonna spend the whole day fixing that thing?”

“Yeah. If you want this to go any quicker why don’t you help me?” Reiner grumbled. 

Porco clicked his tongue.

“No. This is karma for laughing at me when I fell,” the other male replied.

Reiner remembered back to a few minutes ago when Porco was bragging about his romantic conquests. With a smirk, Reiner decided it was time for payback.

“Why didn’t you tell me about all your French lady friends? I figured it would’ve been the first thing you’d brag to me about and yet you didn’t,” Reiner said calmly.

“Huh?” Porco gasped. He felt his face go red. “Well I didn’t want to make you jealous! I didn’t wanna make you feel bad about being a virgin and stuff.”

“I’m not a virgin anymore,” Reiner answered with a chuckle.

Porco flinched.

“WHAT? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?” Porco screamed. 

“Psh, it was back in January with some chick from a party,” Reiner said. 

“What the fuck! This is not fair! I was supposed to lose mine first–” Porco quickly went quiet after realizing what he’d just said, and that he’d basically exposed himself. 

“Good one, Pock. Good one,” Reiner chuckled. 

“Screw you, Reiner,” Porco mumbled. 

He could feel Porco coming closer, and putting a hand on his shoulder. Later, Reiner realized Porco was using him as support to get up.

“Finally leaving?”

“No, forget about your damn generator. Is Zeke still around or did he finally die from nicotine poisoning?” Porco asked. 

“He’s alive and better than ever,” Reiner said. 

“Does he still live with his grandparents?”

“Do you think Zeke would want to give up the opportunity to live rent-free with home-cooked meals?” 

“Nah. Let’s go visit him,” Porco suggested excitedly.

Reiner turned to him with a tired expression on his face, putting down his pliers and wiping his hands on his shorts.

“Right now?” Reiner asked in a hesitant manner. Porco gave him a nod. “But he lives like five miles away.”

“Who’s car is the white one? The one parked in the driveway?”

“Mine…”

Porco gave his friend a hard, hefty slap on his muscular back. 

“Let’s go then!”

Reiner helped his friend while walking over to his car. It was an old, second hand vehicle that his uncle had been gifted from someone who did not know what to do with it. It had been passed down to Reiner after his uncle fixed the car’s imperfections, such as a few problems with the engine and the broken rearview mirrors. The bolde had been given access to drive himself to and from school shortly after scoring his license.

The drive to Zeke’s house was awkward and silent for the most part. Reiner still could not come up with any words to say to his friend regarding the “situation”. His feelings towards it all were polarized, perplexing him more and more each time he philosophized about it. Porco spent most of the ride messing with the radio, trying to find a station he liked until he eventually gave up. 

Zeke’s grandfather was outside, watering his front garden. Reiner parked the car by his friend’s mailbox and greeted the elderly man. The pair asked if Zeke was home, and as a response, they were let into the house. The man’s grandmother offered them drinks and snacks, before finally pointing to Zeke’s location. 

“Zeke,” Reiner called as they descended into the basement. “I brought someone.”

Only the glow of the television made it possible for the pair to make their way around the dark space. A woody, yet diesel-like smell suffocated the room. Reiner pinched his nose, walking to the lonely sofa at the center of the basement. There sat the blonde man, legs spread wide with a bowl of popcorn in between them. He held a game controller between his thumbs as the TV flashed brightly from some action video game. 

“Dude, Zeke, did you even hear us?” Reiner said, poking the man on the shoulder. 

“Loud and clear. Go get a chair, there’s no space on the couch,” Zeke said in a muffled voice as he held a joint between his lips.

“Hi Zeke,” Porco said. “I’m back, did you miss me?”

Zeke raised his brow, eyeing Porco in the dark.

“Galliard? Back from where?”

Reiner dragged two foldable chairs next to Zeke’s sofa.

“WHAT? Did you not notice I was gone? I was in France for the past year!” 

Zeke blew out a puff of smoke.

“Ah. That’s nice. Did you have fun?” Zeke asked, utterly disinterested. 

“I… I guess? Dude, did you seriously not miss me or anything?” Porco whined.

“Hmm… Perhaps I did. Can’t remember. Want a drink?” Zeke said. 

He reached for the minifridge next to his coffee table, and pulled out two beers from within. The two boys popped them open. Reiner sighed out of pleasure from feeling a cool, refreshing liquid go down his throat. The heat had been driving him crazy. 

Porco scrunched up his nose as he began sniffing around, trying to pinpoint the source of the strange smell which only seemed to intensify once Zeke blew out vapor from his cigarette. 

“Dude, what are you even smoking? It smells gnarly in here,” Porco complained as he swatted away the fragrance.

“My grandparents say I can’t smoke nicotine anymore. So I switched to something more tame,” Zeke said, still immersed in his game.

“Which is…?” Reiner said after taking a sip from his beer. 

“Weed.”

Porco and Reiner looked at each other, eyes wide and jaws slightly agape. For the first time in the whole day, they both seemed to agree on something. However, they did not know what that something was exactly. 

“Ahh but the only problem is that I’m hungry all the damn time,” Zeke sighed. “I’ve gained five pounds in just two weeks from eating pure shredded cheese when I’m stoned…”

The rest of the night was quite calm. Even exciting, to an extent. The three spent those hours drinking and catching up on all their summer whereabouts. They played an assortment of video games, and even got invited to stay for dinner my Mr. and Mrs. Jäeger. Reiner tried to sober himself up as rapidly as possible, since he was not willing to drive Porco home while drunk. 

Reiner couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun like this. He usually visited Zeke once or twice a month, since the latter was usually busy with college. Zeke was studying mechanical engineering, but Reiner did not know much about his school life. He’d heard somewhere that Zeke held the highest grades in his whole class. However, Reiner did not believe that, since most of the time, Zeke was smoking and drinking in his basement while playing video games. Reiner had seen Zeke a few times at the gym he went to, but other than that, the man seemed tied to his basement. 

“How about you, Reiner, how’s your love life going?” Zeke asked nonchalantly as he took a bite from his meatloaf. “I’m tired of listening to Galliard go on about his French girlfriends. What’s going on with you?

“I don’t have anyone special right now. But… I’ve got my eyes on this one girl on the cheer team,” Reiner said as he smiled, thinking of the short blonde with wide eyes and a pearl-white smile. 

“Isn’t her name Historia? You don’t have a chance with her. Every guy is head-over-heels for her, what makes  _ you _ special?” Porco asked.

“Pock… I don’t know if Marcel told you but… he’s not on the team anymore,” Reiner said, looking down at his plate as he recalled the gruesome image of his friend’s leg contorting in an inhuman manner, and his muscles tearing upon impact. He didn’t know how to break it to Porco, but he decided to use this as an opportunity.

“Are you busting my balls? What’s that supposed to mean?” Porco asked angrily.

“Uh… I’m the quarterback now. He’s been off the team for over a year,” Reiner said. 

“Oh, here it comes. Don’t beat each other up too badly,” Zeke said as he watched Porco’s vein sticking out of his forehead out of pure indignation.

But this time, Porco didn’t do anything. He simply turned away and softly hit his fist against the table. Tension filled the room until Zeke cleared his throat.

“On another note, that boy who comes to mow the lawn is starting school with you guys,” Zeke said matter-of-factly. “Maybe you guys can befriend him. I believe he’ll be a freshman this year.”

“Falco’s brother? I didn’t know he switched schools too,” Reiner said. 

“Damn, why’s everyone leaving Marley Prep? Is the program too hard for them or what?” Proco grunted. 

“Galliard… you switched too…” Reiner noted.

“Shut up!”

An hour later, they said their goodbyes and Reiner drove Porco home. Tension between them had somehow worsened after revealing the truth about the state of the football team. Reiner could already imagine his friend breaking down in tears while complaining to Marcel about the coach’s choices. When Porco stepped out of the car, he gave Reiner a simple huff as a thanks before storming into his house. Reiner heard Porco calling for his brother in the most blaring, annoyed voice ever.

Reiner returned home at around 10PM. His mother asked him questions about where he’d been, but relaxed when told that the Jäegers had invited him for dinner. Gabi asked him about Porco, but Reiner decided to give her sugar-coated details about his return. He didn’t feel like talking about the lies. 

Reiner collapsed on his bed shutting his eyes for a moment. His mind became plagued with the one thought that would pester him for the rest of the night: how was he going to fix the generator? The Braun household would not be able to survive even a single night without air conditioning. Reiner could already feel his skin evaporating from his bones as his back began to sweat. He had no other choice but to undress himself and remain in his underwear for the next 24 hours or so. He was going to become nauseous at the unbearable heat. Luckily for him, he slept in the basement. But he worried for Gabi’s wellbeing. He couldn’t imagine how intolerably hot her bedroom must be. 

He was sure his mother had a fan somewhere. And thus, he came up with a plan. He would find the fan, and plug it in his bedroom. Then he’d invite Gabi to sleep on an air mattress next to him, and they would both make it through the night without perishing from heat strokes. 

Reiner entered the living room, and then ascended to the second story of the house. His mother caught him being suspicious, looking around the ceiling with a broom in his hand. He poked it relentlessly, trying to find a clue as to where the attic door could be. 

“Reiner! Go put on some clothes! Don’t let Gabi see you like this! Don’t be so vile!” His mother yelled. 

“See him like what?”

Mrs. Braun and her son turned around to see Gabi standing at the end of the hall, also in her undergarments and fanning herself with a magazine. Mrs. Braun gasped, and Reiner burst out laughing.

“Thanks for supporting my cause. Now get over here and help me find the attic. I think there’s a fan in there!” Reiner said.

Gabi rushed downstairs to get her own broom obediently. The two kids began tapping at the ceiling whilst moving forward, until the young girl felt the stick get caught on something. She called Reiner over who inspected the area and found a very lightly traced square outline, almost invisible. There was a small string with a hook, which he pulled. His mother was about to stop him, but it was too late. The Braun children had already uncovered the stairs to the attic.

“Yes! Nice job! Okay, I’ll go up,” Reiner said.

Gabi stood in front of him, preventing the blonde to begin climbing.

“No! You’re too big, you’ll just get stuck. I’ll go up there and look for the fan,” Gabi said, already making her way up the steps. 

Reiner handed her his phone to use as a flashlight. Gabi made noise as she moved stuff around and rummaged through heavy boxes. 

“There’s so much cool stuff up here! Aunt Karina, is this your wedding dress?” Gabi said excitedly. 

Reiner shot his mom a speechless glance. He’d have to ask his mother about that later, but now was not the time. 

“There’s pink stuff on the walls, it looks so gross,” Gabi gagged.

“Gabi, don’t touch that! That’s fiberglass!” Reiner’s mom called.

“Duh, I’m not dumb… oh wait! I think I see the fan!”

Reiner’s grin went wide.

“Can you carry it?” Reiner said.

Gabi crawled back to the entrance with the sizable object in her arms. She pushed it towards Reiner, who helped her get it down. Once Gabi was out of the attic, Reiner’s mom brushed spider webs out of her hair while Reiner closed it up. They shared a high-five before taking the fan to the basement. Mr. Braun noticed the commotion and was let in on the plan. He helped them blow up the air mattress. Once the fan was plugged in, Reiner felt an overwhelming bliss to feel the sweat on his chest get blown away by the cool air. Gabi sat down on her mattress, sighing as the breeze caressed her skin. This would make do for a day or two until Reiner and his uncle fixed the generator. The two were left alone with the scrumptiously relieving draft.

“How’d practice go today?” Reiner asked.

“Was good. Mr. Magath says I’m the best viola in the whole class. Falco’s gonna be so jealous when I tell him. He’s still behind, I don’t understand how he expects to become a good piano player if he can’t even learn the basics. He can’t even read music yet!” 

“Hey, _ I _ don't know how to read music,” Reiner teased.

“Yeah but you play the guitar. All you need to be able to play Audioslave songs are like five chords,” Gabi replied smugly. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you!” Reiner laughed. 

Gabi chuckled before pulling out her iPad and going on Minecraft, which reminded him of his discord server. Reiner checked his phone, and he in fact, had over 100 notifications from the server. However, he only bothered to check the most recent ones since the others were silly conversations about internet culture or “Jean” and “Eren” dissing each other.

**Eren today at 11:14 PM**

_ Hey Reiner are you free? We wanna make a minecraft world together _

**Reiner today at 11:14 PM**

_ Not today srry. My friend broke my generator and we’re stuck with no AC. My cousin is sleeping w me in my room so I can’t really go on my computer rn _

**Eren today at 11:14 PM**

_ Aw man :( that sucks why did your friend break your generator LOOOOL _

**Reiner today at 11:15 PM**

_ Bc hes an ass he legit did it for nothing  _

**Ymir today at 11:15 PM**

_ Serves u right bitch that’s what you get for being a simp  _

**Sasha today at 11:16 PM**

_ Wait which friend? Was it connie? Smh  _

**Reiner today at 11:17 PM**

_ No LOL i’ll tell u on monday at school  _

**Christa today at 11:17 PM**

_ Waitttttt u 3 go to the same school????? I thought u guys were just online friends ahahah that’s so cool!! Btw I have a friend named sasha irl too thats so funny _

**Sasha today at 11:18 PM**

_ Oh worm? Thats poggers everyone named sasha is a goddess _

**Ymir today at 11:19 PM**

_ Please never use poggers again. Also not all ppl named sasha can be goddesses? What about those dudes in russia named sasha? _

**Armin today at 11:19 PM**

_ Why not lol?  _

**Ymir today at 11:20 PM**

_ Stfu libtard  _

**Eren today at 11:21 PM**

_ Btw i wanted to tell you guys that armin and i invited our friend to the server her name’s mikasa she's swag _

**Mikasa today at 11:22 PM**

_ hi. _

**Reiner today at 11:23 PM**

_ Hi welcome to the server  _

**Jean today at 11:23 PM**

hi mikasa :D I’m jean 

**Mikasa today at 11:24 PM**

_ I can see that _

**Eren today at 11:25 PM**

_ Dude leave her alone you’re lame af  _

**Bertholdt today at 11:25 PM**

_ Heyy what are we talking about? Are we gonna play minecraft or not? Is Reiner here yet? _

Reiner’s innards vibrated with joy upon seeing his friend’s name pop up in the chat. He’d managed to forget about him for the whole day, so much that he hadn’t even bothered to answer his messages through their private conversation. Reiner felt bad. Opening the chat, he let out a half-huff, half-chuckle.

**Bertholdt today at 5:18 PM**

_ Haha no worries. And yeah I won’t be doing anything fun today either :( i have to study for some AP classes i’m taking sighhhhhh _

**Bertholdt today at 7:34 PM**

_ Also just to let u know, i’m pretty sure eren and the others want to make a minecraft world but we’re just waiting for everyone to get online before we do that _

**Reiner today at 11:27 PM**

_ Sorry for not answering, i actually did end up doing something fun but it was out of the blue _

Bertholdt’s typing icon popped up at once.

**Bertholdt today at 11:27 PM**

_ What did u do? :) I heard about your generator :( that sucks _

**Reiner today at 11:28 PM**

_ Yeah i legit went on a rampage. But i found a fan so i’ll survive…  _

**Reiner today at 11:28 PM**

_ I went to a friend’s house with the dude that broke my generator. It was actually pretty nice, we got a bit tipsy tho hehe _

**Bertholdt today at 11:29 PM**

_ Do you drink often? I mean it’s none of my business but i’m just curious _

**Reiner today at 11:30 PM**

_ Nah not really lol, only once in a while. And don’t worry, I don’t mind you asking :) _

**Reiner today at 11:30 PM**

_ How about you? I know you said you weren’t doing anything but I still wanna know what u were up to aside from studying haha what does the a-list impostor do in his day to day life? >:) _

**Bertholdt today at 11:31 PM**

_ Well i went for a run and then i played my violin for a while and i finished a book… it’s not very exciting  _

**Reiner today at 11:32 PM**

_ Oh wow, are you good at violin? _

**Bertholdt today at 11:32 PM**

_ Idk maybe?  _

**Reiner today at 11:33 PM**

_ Awww don’t be humble dude, if you’re good at something might as well own up to it!!! _

**Bertholdt today at 11:33 PM**

_ U make me blush haha don’t be so nice. Anyways, what other hobbies do you have? U told me yesterday that u play football, anything else? _

**Reiner today at 11:34 PM**

_ I play the guitar and sing sometimes… i like books and movies too I guess? And video games ofc haha I don’t really have an interesting life _

**Reiner today at 11:35 PM**

_ What kind of music r u into? I’m guessing classical? _

**Bertholdt today at 11:35 PM**

_ nooo lol I like classic rock, my fave band is queen or the doors, you? _

**Reiner today at 11:36 PM**

_ Ahhh thats nice! I like grunge or brit pop or rock. Idk, I don’t really have a favorite band. I’m probably a fake fan of everything because I only listen to the most popular songs  _

**Bertholdt today at 11:36 PM**

_ That’s fine, you have a cool taste in music. Also what’s ur favorite song to play on guitar? :D _

**Reiner today at 11:37 PM**

_ Not gonna tell you, it’s so embarrassing  _

**Bertholdt today at 11:37 PM**

_ Aw :(  _

**Reiner today at 11:39 PM**

_ If u play me something i’ll send u a video of me playing a song of your choice  _

**Bertholdt today at 11:39 PM**

_ Okay haha I’ll do it tomorrow! And hmmm… how about “You’re Lost Little Girl” by the doors? _

**Reiner today at 11:40 PM**

_ Never heard it but I'll do my best ;) _

“Reiner I’m tired, I wanna sleep,” Gabi mumbled. 

Reiner got up and turned off the light. He handed Gabi a thin bed sheet to cover herself if the fan got too cold. Reiner decided to stay up for a little longer to talk to his friend. He wondered if Bertholdt was actually a 15 year old boy and not some weird old man trying to steal his information. But it did not seem like that. Bertholdt seemed like a sweet person. It satisfied Reiner to know that he’d found a stable group of friends to play games with. 

**Reiner today at 12:23 PM**

_ Hey Bertholdt… I hope you don’t mind me asking but… what do you look like? _


	3. Agoraphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leading up to the first day of school, Bertholdt wallows in hopelessness and despair as he's met with a new emotional dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Panic attacks, horny thoughts (I guess?)  
> Chapter Song- Agoraphobia by Autoheart

Bertholdt’s idiotically joyful grin had long decayed after glancing at Reiner’s message. They’d only been talking for around a day or so, and the other already wanted to see Bertholdt’s face. The tall boy couldn’t blame him though. If he were slightly more paranoid he too would want to know the face behind the IP address who he’d been communicating with. But it felt like they were moving too fast. He did not question Reiner’s intentions, in fact, he completely understood him. Yet he wondered if Reiner had also been speaking privately with the other members of the server, and whether they’d already showed him their appearance or not. 

Perhaps Reiner was only talking to Bertholdt just to be nice. Maybe someone else in the server had revealed their face to him, and he’d taken a different kind of liking towards them. That thought made Bertholdt feel a heavy emptiness inside his torso, like a wrenching stomach ache. His jealousy caused by made-up scenarios made him want to crawl into bed eternally, nevertheless, he did not know why he was even envious in the first place. He did not have any entitlement to dictate Reiner’s life, especially due to the fact that they were nothing more than strangers to each other who only ever interacted online. Just as he was with the rest of the server. Hell, they’d never even gone on voice call. How the hell was Bertholdt obsessing over someone who he couldn’t confirm actually existed? 

Bertholdt thought of what response would suit best. He couldn’t send Reiner any pictures of him, since he only had less than 7 selfies of himself on his phone, and he did not really like those anyways. He’d always hated taking pictures, for his visage always ended up looking wonkier than expected. Every lens would warp him to look anomalous. His long, arched nose would always turn into the focal point of the image, which irked him to the bone. The dark circles around his eyes would make him look unkept and eerie, and his awkward smile would throw the whole image out of visual balance. 

He’d never been a fan of his physical appearance. He’d never considered himself attractive in the slightest. His presence had always made him uncomfortable and overly aware of how much of a waste of space he really was. His height made him feel out of touch with his body. His arms and legs did not feel like they belonged to him. He’d spent many days staring at himself in the bathroom mirror naked, wondering if the body he was born with was truly his own. Sometimes he would envision himself sawing his legs off. He’d convinced himself that he would be much happier if he didn’t have any extremities. Or if he didn’t have a body, in general. 

His mother’s words had pierced him harshly, for they’d made him think about what a monster he would be if he ended up gaining any more weight. At his height, being overweight or even passably chubby would turn him into a vile beast. His mother had been right. He had in fact, gained a few pounds over the summer. He’d looked at himself after a morning shower, staring coldly at his midriff. He almost broke down in tears after realizing there was a little bit more extra skin on his stomach than before. 

What would Reiner think if he were to see him in person? He would surely want to stop being friends. Or perhaps Reiner was uglier than him and everything would be okay. Then again, Reiner had said he was a football player, so his body was surely toned and slender. 

**Bertholdt today at 12:30 PM**

_ Um… I’m really tall. And I have very dark hair. That’s it i guess, there’s nothing special about my appearance. _

That would do. Leaving out all the unflattering aspects of his persona would be the best thing to do for now. He waited for Reiner to type his reply. Meanwhile, he made himself comfortable inside his covers. Bertholdt pondered if anyone he’d ever met had ever found him good-looking. There was Annie, but everyone was ugly in her eyes, so he doubted that his friend thought he was handsome or cute. Then there was Pieck, the girl from the conservatory. She’d complimented his eyes once, but never elaborated any further. And lastly– his parents. They used to always call him cute when he was younger. And Bertholdt agreed– he used to be a very adorable child. But the second he’d hit puberty, his parents had done nothing but nag him about his posture, or his hair, or his skin. 

**Reiner today at 12:36 PM**

_ Ah, I see... I think I’m gonna go to bed now. My head feels like a bag of bricks, I’m literally about to pass out sigh... good night Berturtle, I’m looking forward to hearing you play ;) _

Though a bit disappointed, Bertholdt decided that it was a good place to leave off the conversation. Reiner had clearly gotten the memo that the tall boy did not feel comfortable enough with showing him his face, and he’d respected it implicitly, from what Bertholdt could see. They said goodnight, and Bertholdt closed his eyes to be swept away by that comforting, emotionless sleep. However, as his hands began to tremble, he realized that he would not be able to rest. The room felt like it was collapsing on his body. 

His lungs seemed to contract and cramp together in a way where it made it hard to breathe. He held the sensation of a heavy weight resting on top of him, preventing him from screaming or moving around. He felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Bile rose in his throat as tears began to flow out of his eyes. The only thing he could see was what interfered in his line of sight, which happened to be his frame. His white shirt became soggy with sweat as he tried to urge a scream out of his diaphragm; he wanted to call for his parents, to help him ease his panic. His skin felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly by hundreds of tiny needles at the same time. 

The minute he gained mobility in his fingers, he began to yell at the top of his lungs for his parents to come to his aid. His shrieks were bloodcurdling and sharp, most likely waking up the neighbors. They were probably used to it though, this was something that happened very often. His father rushed into the room, pale in the face as he quickly lifted his son’s torso, helping him sit up. Bertholdt sobbed loudly as he gripped onto his father. His breathing was rapid as his face had turned scarlet. 

The man held him, desperately trying to lull him into calming down. He rubbed his son’s back while rocking him back and forth, allowing Bertholdt to close his eyes for a short moment. Memories came flooding back of how his father used to comfort him in the same way. Before the panic attacks started, he was a normal child who would cry whenever he’d fall off his bike. The man would hold him just the same and assure him that everything would be alright. Now that he was much older, he felt pitiful as his father was forced to cradle him like a baby once again. 

Once it seemed as though he had calmed down, his father let go of him. Bertholdt panted tiredly while the man brushed his bangs out of his sweaty forehead. He helped Bertholdt back onto a lying position, hovering over him with worry.

“Need anything kiddo?” He asked.

Bertholdt grunted, coughing as his dry throat began to itch.

“Water,” Bertholdt croaked.

It would be a long night ahead. Mr. Hoover sat on Bertholdt’s chair, watching over his son as he struggled to fall asleep. Thankfully, the young boy eventually fell unconscious. Morning had come faster than anticipated. He woke up dizzy and with the need to throw up, but it was just a side effect of what had happened the night before. He opted for a peeled orange for breakfast before rushing to take a shower. Today, he was going to send Reiner a faceless video of him playing the violin.

He checked his notifications, seeing that Reiner wasn’t up yet due to his inactivity. Bertholdt set up his phone on top of some books, making sure the only visible parts of his body were his shoulders and the upper part of his trunk. He freed his instrument from its case, running rome resin through his delicate bow before placing the wooden object under his chin; the shoulder rest had been adjusted the previous night in preparation for this. 

Bertholdt’s index finger hovered over the record button. But as he did, he hesitated. How could he have forgotten about his anxiety episode from last night so easily? Normally he wouldn’t brush off something of that magnitude, in fact, he'd think about it for the whole day like a war veteran traumatized by his past experiences. Something was different about today. Perhaps it was the mellow bubbling in his heart leading up to talking with his online friend, or the song of the birds outside which reassured him that today would be a good day.

With a deep inhale, he pressed record, and began to remember the easiest song he knew he couldn’t possibly screw up. He allowed his hand to carry the weight of his body as he fondled the strings with the thin horse hairs from his bow. He shut his eyes and the earth slowed down. The only thing existing on the flying rock were his hands and the array of notes between them. His head felt light, like a hot air balloon taking off into the heavens. He could no longer remember what had even brought him here in the first place. 

He felt lost at sea, on a small raft that cradled him back and forth following the rhythm of the water. And when he lay down, he could see the vast blue sky which went on forever until it collided with the ocean. He wasn’t alone on his imaginary boat. Someone else was there with him, but their presence was so mild and tame that he did not feel anxious at all to be sharing his consciousness with them. He reached out for the sun, and the drops of light tangled themselves with his fingers like loose strings. The song continued like the railway spanning from Moscow to Vladivostok; long and seemingly destinationless. 

These were the only moments where his mind was ever in full sync with his body. Both portions of his being harmonized perfectly. He pictured himself standing alone, in a dark concert hall with no one but himself watching him play. His parents had told them countless times that there was no point in producing music if he was not going to share it with anybody else. But he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to play for no one other than himself– his greatest critic of all time. Yet there was now someone else who was curious to listen– intrigued to listen to him play without any presumptions on who Bertholdt was supposed to be. 

With a final stroke, he drew out the last note with a vibrato, exhaling the whiff of air he’d been holding. He felt something wet fall on his hand, making him notice that he’d started to weep during the song. He stopped the recording before sitting down, staring at his feet as his eyes clouded with tears. Where in the world had the time gone? He’d been dragging on his whole life with the burden of his own existence. Along the way, he’d lost all this faith in everything. 

Bertholdt quickly listened to his recording, choking back a sob with a smile. He did not feel estranged this time. Was it contempt? Perhaps, or maybe not. All he knew is that a new kind of hope had blossomed within him, like the smallest flower fighting its way through the mushy snows of April. Even if Reiner wasn’t a real human, pretending he was would keep him sane enough to at least get through the next few months.

He sent Reiner the video in fragments, since Discord did not allow him to send anything over a minute or so. He laid down, staring up at the screen as he waited for Reiner to watch it. His guts almost did a whole flip after seeing the other’s name pop up in the chat. And then a message popped up.

**Reiner today at 10:09 AM**

_ You play beautifully, Bertholdt. How dare you not brag about your ability more often? I am completely speechless, I’ve never heard anyone play with so much emotion, thank you so much for sharing this with me _

**Reiner today at 10:09 AM**

_ I am in love  _

Bertholdt’s cheeks went pink as he typed as quickly as possible. He giggled to himself while thinking about his friend’s reaction, wondering if his last statement was directed towards him or his talent.

**Bertholdt today at 10:10 AM**

_ That means the world to me haha thank you :) _

**Reiner today at 10:11 AM**

_ What’s the song called?  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:11 AM**

_ Après un rêve, did you like it? _

**Reiner today at 10:12 AM**

_ Yeah! I loved it! _

**Bertholdt today at 10:12 AM**

_ Okay, your turn. I wanna hear you play :) _

**Reiner today at 10:14 AM**

_ Shit dude I just woke up a few minutes ago, I haven’t even listened to the song yet _

**Bertholdt today at 10:14 AM**

_ Oh… it's fine haha _

**Reiner today at 10:15 AM**

_ Nono, don’t worry, give me 10 minutes  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:16 AM**

_ 10? No need to rush tho, you should take your time!! _

**Reiner today at 10:17 AM**

_ Go to the bathroom or something, when u come back i’ll be done _

And with that, Reiner’s icon showed the offline circle. Bertholdt sat in confusion, wondering how Reiner was going to learn a whole song in less than half an hour. If he planned on doing all the arpeggios and licks, he’d have to spend a good while studying the tablature. Or perhaps Bertholdt was over-estimating him. Maybe Reiner would just look up the chords and memorize the progression. That seemed like the most logical answer. 

Thus, Bertholdt did as Reiner instructed and went to the bathroom to wash his face, which he hadn’t gotten around to doing during the shower attributable to his morning jitters. His mother had forced him to develop somewhat of a skincare routine, since he’d struggled with acne during his early teens. Nowadays, he rarely got any pimples but when he did, it would send him into a frenzy. He couldn’t deal with being unattractive and greasy at the same time. One had to go. 

Upon his return, he noticed Reiner had sent him a video, which had also been cut up in parts. As the first one loaded, he noticed Reiner had sent him another message.

**Reiner today at 10:31 AM**

_ Btw sorry I’m nearly naked, it’s hot as fuck in my house, no generator = no AC </3 Hope u don’t mind me flexing my calvin klein drip >:) _

Bertholdt was confused in regards to what he had meant by that until the first video was finally available for him to watch. Before even pressing play, he could already tell everything that was probably going on from the thumbnail. Reiner, or at least, who he thought to be Reiner, was sitting on his bed with his legs crossed. Just like him, Reiner had opted to send him something without his face, so everything from the shoulders down was completely visible. Just as he had stated, he was almost in the nude except for his gray pair of Calvin Klein boxers which clung tightly around his nether region. But the thing that most caught Bertholdt’s attention were his extremely defined muscles. Especially his abs. The boy had the body of a Greek god. His biceps were bulky and visibly strong, and he had broad shoulders. Perfect for playing football. 

Bertholdt spent a good ten minutes gaping at the male’s physique, until he remembered that it was not just an image, but a video too. He twirled a strand of his own hair around a finger as he felt his whole body grow hot internally. He finally brought himself to press play with shaky hands. 

The video began with Reiner getting comfortable on his bed, reaching for something which Bertholdt later saw was a guitar pick. 

“Please don’t interrupt me, kid,” Reiner said to somebody off-screen as he turned to the side to grab his guitar.

Bertholdt felt like he’d just gotten crushed by an anvil. He grew weak at the knees after hearing a single sentence be uttered out of Reiner’s mouth. His voice was deep, kind of gravelly, yet very smooth. Bertholdt sensed that he’d just been stabbed in the heart repeatedly by an arrow, belonging to Cupid himself. 

“I won’t promise anything,” a young, female voice said. Bertholdt assumed it belonged to a child, perhaps his sister, if he had any.

“Are you recording?” Reiner asked the girl.

“Yeah.”

“Kay. Hi Bertholdt! Hope I’m pronouncing that right! Here’s the song you wanted!” Reiner said cheerfully. 

A weird sensation in his lower abdomen flared up after hearing his friend speak his name. Bertholdt had never experienced something so mystifying as the things bubbling inside his head (and body) at that instant. It all appeared to be so wrong and deceitful– to who, he did not know; yet so hindoistically correct at the same time. 

Reiner began the song with the familiar E minor arpeggio he knew so well. At this point, he had expected Reiner to do a half-assed job executing the song but he didn’t. Everything was perfect, down to the hardest chops from the melody. The song’s introduction had been executed pristinely, he’d even played some of the bass’ parts to make it sound more complete. 

And then he began to sing.

Bertholdt thought he was being murdered in the most blissfully maniacal way possible. Reiner had a great voice. No, not great– immaculate. Very natural-sounding, with no need for decorations like many singers nowadays opted for. He was well in tune and mimicked the energy of the song without fault. Almost like the melody had been written to fit  _ his _ , and only  _ his _ vocal range. Bertholdt watched every video with excitement and curiosity, watching Reiner’s fingers dance across the fretboard with such organic ease.

Bertholdt gripped his pillow, digging his fingers into the soft object. How could such a perfect being exist in a world as revolting as the one he lived in. It was as though the two individuals lived in completely different versions of the Earth, and Bertholdt just so happened to have had the luck of being born in the abhorrent one. In less than a few minutes, Reiner had become this sort of divine figure in his mind. Bertholdt was sure Reiner was everything he’d ever wanted to be, but could never reach in his whole life. Did he envy him? Was he mad that Reiner was living Bertholdt’s ideal life?

No. The patter of his heart and the fluttering inside his body told him otherwise. He wasn’t angry. It was something else– something even worse. Bertholdt’s relationship with the “L” word had always been a complicated one. He’d never had the chance to know what it felt like. Of course, he could only stare mesmerized at the imagery depicting it. He’d wonder what a man’s hands would feel like on his body, holding him by the waist and nuzzling his face. But those thoughts were ones he could not be having. After all, he was male. So why was it that in every romantic fantasy of his, he’d find himself feeling the warmth of another boy’s body next to his instead of a girl’s?

As a pre-teen, he’d find himself fixated on the magazines depicting half-naked men on the covers. He’d stray far behind his mother at the supermarket to allow himself to get even the smallest glance at the contents inside. Seeing women in swimsuits did not have the same effect on him. In fact, it had no effect at all. He’d been suspicious of his sexuality plenty of times before, but getting aroused at simple pictures of shirtless Chris Evans was not enough to make him question any further. 

But Reiner– he was making him feel different things, not only in his genitals but in his chest and brain too. He wanted to slam his head against the wall until splitting his cranium open. He’d never had feelings for anyone in his whole life. So why was it that the first attractive man who treated him with kindness made him surrender his emotions to the fullest? He was bothered by the fact that he hadn’t even known Reiner for half a week and he was already imagining a whole relationship with him. He didn’t even know if Reiner was into men,  _ hell _ , he  _ himself _ didn’t know if he was completely into men.

_ ‘Stop it,’  _ he said to himself internally.  _ ‘Come back to Earth, Bertholdt. Get your head out of the clouds. Have you ever even seen yourself?’ _

And then he thought back to those same romance films that made him question himself. Because in the movies too, there was pain and darkness. Love was not always exciting. How many times had every female protagonist gotten her heart broken by non reciprocated feelings? How many times have they cried over someone not meant for them? 

_ ‘You can still turn back now,’  _ he told himself.

But how would he know if he never took the risk?

He sighed, burying his nose in his bedsheets. What was he going to do? He’d managed to get himself into an even bigger– and potentially dangerous– predicament. He couldn’t be gay, could he? If his parents were ever to find out, he’d surely be kicked out and abandoned for life. It’s not like they were homophobic, but the two had always disencouraged Bertholdt to show any interest in dating or romantic involvement. If they despised the idea of him loving a girl, how would they react upon knowing he was into guys?

**Reiner today at 10:45 AM**

_ So? Did you like it or nah? Did I traumatize you for life? _

Bertholdt’s eyes widened.

**Bertholdt today at 10:45 AM**

_ Im so sorry, they took a while to load :( _

**Bertholdt today at 10:46 AM**

_ Also… i loved it. A lot. You’re absolutely amazing!!!!! :D _

**Bertholdt today at 10:46 AM**

_ How did you learn the song so fast? Wow.... _

**Reiner today at 10:47 AM**

_ By ear lol, it wasn’t that hard haha _

**Bertholdt today at 10:47 AM**

_ That’s amazing… you’re so talented. TBH i expected it to suck because u said you’d only take ten minutes but I stand corrected… _

**Reiner today at 10:48 AM**

_ Wow rude LMAOOO but thanks, I appreciate the compliments ;) _

**Bertholdt today at 10:49 AM**

_ For how long have you been playing? Must've taken a while to train your ear… _

**Reiner today at 10:50 AM**

_ Hmm maybe 5 ish years? It was mostly out of boredom _

**Bertholdt today at 10:50 AM**

_ That’s so little damn… I’m blown away, you’re so great :·3 _

**Reiner today at 10:51 AM**

_ Awwww u flatter me stooop lmaooooo :) btw are you down to play minecraft later today? _

**Bertholdt today at 10:51 AM**

_ Yeasssss :3  _

The rest of the day was quite mundane. Bertholdt was forced to go on a jog. He read for a little while, and then finished practicing his audition song. He needed to get it ready for the following day, because Mr. Magath was going to listen to him for the first time and partner him up with Pieck to see how well they’d play together. For the remainder of the evening, he argued with his mother about the track team. Hurdle season would not start until the spring, which was what he usually did. However, she quarreled over the fact that he couldn’t spend two whole seasons doing no exercise whatsoever. In the end, he lost the discussion and would end up having to join the cross country team for the meantime.

When he was finally free, he logged onto his computer and accepted the invitation from his friends to join the Minecraft world. The whole group dispersed into different areas, each one going off to conquer their own mass of land to settle in. Bertholdt began by collecting some wood and stone to make tools. He noticed that Reiner, Ymir, and Eren had already gotten iron and were strip mining even further down to find different ores. Christa had gone off somewhere to raid a village, returning with a tamed cat and an inventory full of crops and flowers. Jean, Sasha, and Connie were hunting animals, while Armin was looking for wool. Mikasa had found diamonds, and came out of a cave in full armor with tools. She gave Eren a sword after his disappointment over not being able to find anything other than redstone. 

Everyone began to build their own homes. Mikasa, Armin, and Eren began working on a manor made from planks and stone. Ymir opted for a bunker, which she constructed directly under Christa’s cottage. Jean decided on a stone fortress, in which he planned to install redstone traps in case Eren ever decided to grief his base. Sasha and Connie made a 6 by 6 wooden cube with a door, and lined all the walls with furnaces. They expressed their future architectural plans to Reiner, revealing that they planned on making an advanced storage system. Reiner, on the other hand, aimed for practicality with a simple dirt hut– mind you, it was the prettiest dirt hut Bertholdt had ever seen; Reiner managed to terraform all the area around him and had even placed different kinds of greenery atop his small mound. 

Bertholdt started working on a small dark oak and spruce cabin by a lake. He even added a dock so that fishing was more accessible to him. Reiner and Armin came to spy on him a few times, complimenting his work. He got especially excited whenever Reiner would march into his work-in-progress home, handing him random items for the sake of annoying him. Bertholdt assumed Reiner was just getting rid of his junk, but it did not irritate him at all. In fact, he was happy just to have Reiner’s attention to himself.

He stayed on the game for hours, until his mother ordered him to go to bed. When he logged out, Reiner texted him good night and wished him sweet dreams, which made Bertholdt feel like a pile of mushy snow. 

Once Bertholdt was in bed, he could not get rid of that burning sensation. It was as though his head was infested with parasites as he hugged his pillow, trying to wipe the image of his friend’s shirtless torso from his consciousness. His voice still lingered in Bertholdt’s soul, causing him to tightly cross his legs as he reminisced about the way Reiner had recited his name. He’d fallen under the control of a faceless man. Like a curse casted over him by Aphrodite herself; all he could think about was the way Reiner’s hands had strummed the guitar with such care– how his biceps tightened whenever he’d played a more complicated part of the song. 

He wondered what the rest of Reiner looked like. His face– was it soft or angular? Was he a blonde or brunette? Or perhaps he had black hair just like Bertholdt; that would be such a relief. What color were his eyes? And his nose– did he have a straight, pointy nose? Surely so. He seemed perfect in every way. There was no way Reiner would remotely look anything like Bertholdt. He was curious about how Reiner’s hands would feel, stroking his body softly. How quickly would he melt if his friend were to whisper in his ear, repeating his name over and over in a husky voice? 

The breath of summer had been particularly feisty today, managing to break into his house even with the conditioned air cycling through his home. The atmosphere was dry, yet he felt a very humid kind of sultriness that swathed his body. His fingers uncoiled themselves from his pillow, slowly trailing them down his chest. He inhaled keenly as he began to pull the waistband of his underwear. Before sliding his hand any further, he debated on whether he should even be having these urges or not. He’d never actually touched himself before, well, not completely. Usually he’d chicken out from self-loathing and disgust. He suppressed a small moan as he retracted his hand; his fingers gently stoked the sensitive skin on his lower abdomen in the process. He frothed for someone, anybody, to touch him like that. 

To feel a pair of strong hands on his hips while being kissed roughly; it was something he’d craved for a long time, but had suppressed in the depths of the darkest areas of his brain. Learning of Reiner’s existence had only reignited those sentiments. He wanted someone with whom he could replicate all those awful love scenes from every cheesy teenage drama ever. He’d been in denial for the longest time, afraid of having to call himself by that word every boy used to insult each other. 

“ _ Fuck _ . What am I even doing?” He whispered.

The remaining days of the week went by in a flash. Every moment of it felt like a deja vu, something he’d already experienced plenty of times before. Perhaps the only thing that made it interesting in the slightest was talking to Reiner and the others during the afternoons. On Saturday, his mother dragged him to the mall to go back-to-school shopping. She had been waiting all year to use the coupons she’d accumulated. He didn’t choose anything special. Just fancier versions of the same outfits he’d been wearing his whole life– which included oversized cardigans, corduroy pants, knit sweaters, and plain v-neck shirts. The fanciest thing he’d scored was a beige jacket with faux wool lining. His mother even offered to buy him new running shoes, but none of the ones available called out to him. She ended up picking some out for him, which he wasn’t a fan of but knew better than to complain.

He’d play Minecraft and several other games with his online friends. They all felt the same towards starting school. No one aside from Armin truly wanted to return to that hellish place. Christa had expressed that she would be starting school a week later than all of them, since she had some personal issues to take care of. Bertholdt noticed that Reiner had taken a special liking towards her, and would often ask her questions about her whereabouts. Bertholdt tried his hardest not to get hung up on that, and instead ignored Reiner’s advances directed at Christa. 

Aside from that, Bertholdt had an even bigger dilemma at hand. This time he no longer had the privilege of even questioning whether or not he should take his medicine. He  _ needed _ to do it. There was no other way of preventing spontaneous panic attacks at school, which he was sure he’d most likely have. But he simply did not want to feel that extreme sense of heaviness every day of his life. However he also did not wish for all his classmates to be witnesses of his severe anxiety. He already knew that if that were to happen, he’d be sent to the hospital and then transferred to a mental facility, which he feared. 

When Monday morning rolled around, he rapidly took the pills and tried to coax his psyche into believing he hadn’t actually taken them. That day, he got ready with no excitement whatsoever. He put on a plain green t-shirt, loose black jeans, and his old sneakers. It was still too hot outside to be wearing sweaters, which made him curse whoever had decided that school was going to start at the peak of summer in the west-coast. Hell, he’d seen some girls driving to the community pool in little clothing only two weeks ago. 

As he was doing his hair, he heard his mother answer the front door. A female voice could be heard from the other end, giving a brief salutation to Mrs. Hoover before marching in. He noted the sound of plates being placed on the table. Annie had arrived. 

This had always been their routine. Mr. Leonhart would always drive Annie to the Hoover household in the ass crack of dawn, where she would have breakfast and even brush her teeth. Then the two of them would walk to the bus stop together and take a short nap on their ride to school. Bertholdt was glad to have his friend as moral support every morning, since he’d usually wake up with no will to leave his bed or even open his eyes. It was an intense feeling of hopelessness and boredom that would immediately possess him the minute his brain became conscious of the world around him. Being able to even crawl out of his bed was a miracle he could never believe. 

Annie was already eating in the kitchen when he came down the stairs. To his shock and utter dismay, she’d been served a generous amount of his favorite cereal along with a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, the breakfast meant for him was nothing more than a measly bowl of diced grapefruit and a glass of an ominous-looking juice. Annie greeted him with a nod, per usual, and concentrated on finishing her food. Bertholdt found it peculiar how the both of them had made little to no effort on making themselves look appealing to the public. Annie wore a large, gray hoodie with some charity logo on the back, and some peach-colored leggings. She still used the same shoes she’d been sporting since 8th grade. However, there was one notable difference between the two: Annie was naturally pretty, and she looked stunning in any outfit she chose.

Bertholdt sat down. It only took one sip of the suspicious juice to make him lose his appetite. He almost gagged, but covered it up as best as possible. Of course, Annie noticed and sent a dry chuckle his way. 

“It can’t be that bad,” she mumbled as she took a spoonful of the chocolate-flavored cereal.

“It’s horrible! Mom, what did you put in this?” He groaned.

She faced him, eyes wide with shock as she hadn’t even noticed that he’d entered the kitchen.

“Oh, Bertholdt, good morning,” she said, patting his shoulder. “It’s carrot juice with spinach and radish. It’s gonna give you all the nutrients and vitamins you need, so please drink it.”

“No fair, why does Annie get something good?” Bertholdt sighed as he began working on the miserable-looking bowl of grapefruit.

“Because I can,” Annie replied. 

After finishing their morning routine, they got ready to leave the house. Mr. Hoover took a picture of them smiling awkwardly. This was also a tradition of theirs, which they had been doing since Bertholdt was in middle school. His father would always take a “first day of school” picture of the two. Most, if not all of them, were horrible since neither of them knew how to properly smile in photographs. Except for freshman year, where neither of them wanted to even grin since they’d both gotten braces over the summer. 

Bertholdt didn’t even ask his father to show him this year’s picture. He already knew how awful he looked, so why even bother. The two friends began their journey to the bus stop, which was located only a few houses down. There was only another kid aside from them waiting anxiously for the bus to arrive. He looked fairly young, and quite scrawny. Bertholdt guessed he was a freshman, since their bus stop had always been exclusively for the two of them. He’d seen the boy around the neighborhood a few times. He often found him on his penny board, riding down the street with his little brother trailing behind on his scooter. He knew the boy’s younger sibling from the conservatory. He was a pianist from the youth orchestra group. He’d seen Pieck interact with him very often, as she’d usually stay behind to give him tips. 

The boy looked at them with a friendly smile, waving cheerfully. Bertholdt and Annie stood next to him. Annie ignored the boy’s attempts to befriend them and instantly put on her headphones to block him out.

“Hey, I’m so glad I’m not the only one here!” He chuckled. “I thought I had missed the bus…”

“Ah, no, it usually arrives at 7:35-ish,” Bertholdt replied quietly. 

The boy sighed out of relief.

“I’m glad. Anyways, I’m Colt, what’s your name? Are you guys seniors?” He asked.

“I’m Bertholdt.” Bertholdt answered. He pointed to Annie. “She’s Annie. And no. We’re juniors. You’re a freshman, right?”

Colt nodded, shifting his weight from heel to heel.

“Sure am. I’m kinda nervous though…” he said. “I mean this is a really important part of my life after all… I don’t want to waste it doing nothing.”

Bertholdt crossed his arms and shook his head.

“No… you shouldn’t worry… high school is not that big a deal as everyone makes it look. You’ll spend half your time doing homework or sobbing over tests. If you’re looking to be popular, your only choice is the football team and even then… most of them are too absorbed in their personal lives to even care about anyone else.”

Colt frowned.

“I don’t mean to discourage you kid, but high school is just the tutorial. Nothing will change after you graduate. Might as well make good friends while you’re here, because they will probably be your  _ only  _ friends for the next 30 years of your life,” Annie suddenly chimed in. “And then you’ll see them again at a dumb reunion when you’re 54. And they’ll all be bound to a wheelchair with type-2 diabetes and the only thing you’ll have in common with them is how much you miss the “good old days” and you’ll go home to your obese wife who makes shitty green bean caserole and cry–”

“Annie!” Bertholdt gasped, nudging her shoulder to make her shut up. He turned back to Colt, who was traumatized. “Sorry Colt, none of that is true! Just… don’t let anyone get to you and do your best… You’ll find great friends!”

Colt raised his eyebrows nervously.

“Are… Are you two depressed?” He asked with a whine. 

“No, we’re just relists,” Annie said. 

“Annie!” Bertholdt scolded. “You’ll do great, Colt. Just don’t tell anyone you like Nickelback and you’ll be good to go.”

They could see the yellow vehicle approaching from afar. 

“I… I hate Nickelback…” Colt said, looking at Bertholdt dead in the eyes. 

The bus’ doors opened loudly. Bertholdt returned the intense glance he was given and nodded.

“Good,” He said before climbing into the bus. 

Annie and Bertholdt headed for the very back of the vessel, looking to see if there was anyone already there. Usually the loud kids sat in that area, unless the two were to take their spot of course. It was mostly empty, so they took the most lonely-looking seat for themselves. Colt sat on the one adjacent to them, fidgeting nervously with the straps of his backpack. 

As Annie nodded off to sleep, Bertholdt began to feel the effect of his pills finally kick in. His legs felt like spaghetti, and his shoulders tightened like they were being crushed by a hydraulic press. His vision clouded horribly, causing his eyes to burn and water. He’d be sure the nausea would begin abruptly, and he was not prepared to arrive at school with the need to puke his breakfast. It felt like he was living a cruel, sadistic version of a coming-of-age movie’s opening scene; an upbeat 80’s song played through the crappy speakers of the bus while his immune system began attacking him viciously. Instead of being the happy-go-lucky protagonist, he was the weird basket case having unwarranted side effects on his first day of school.

“Bertholdt… um… are you crying?” Colt asked suddenly.

Bertholdt wiped the hot, itchy tears from his waterline. He turned to Colt, who gasped loudly. Bertholdt’s nose had started dripping, and his sclera had turned bright pink.

“Huh? Oh no, this is normal–” The bus suddenly hit a ditch, making everyone inside jump. Bertholdt finally felt his morning meal rising through his esophagus. The vomit had arrived in his cavity. All he could do was attempt to swallow it back down.

“You okay?” Colt asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Bertholdt said quietly as he forced his spew to stay in his gut. 

Colt unzipped his backpack and handed him a tissue from a small pouch. Bertholdt blew his nose, thanking him for the sudden help. 

The school building came into view as a bright crimson sun began to rise over the horizon line. Bertholdt thought back to the past two years he’d spent there, eating his lunch in the library in utter solitude. Getting praise for winning trophies at track meets, yet never being remembered by name. Staring at the football players in what he thought to be deprivation and jealousy, when in reality it had been something else. Being on the border of having a nervous breakdown in the changing rooms because he didn’t want to be caught staring at another half-nude guy. Offering to make friends with people only to have his attempts be in vain. 

The bus came to a halt, and all the kids who’d been picked up along the way ran out as quickly as possible, excited to see their friends and tell them about their summer break. He’d never get to have that experience, for he barely knew any others aside from his small circle of acquaintances. At least he’d have Reiner to talk to when he was bored. Reiner was probably somewhere in another state, being welcomed by all of his comrades. 

However, what he was living through was not the worst case scenario. There’d been years when he hadn’t had Annie by his side. On the first day of freshman year, he’d spent his whole break period crying in the bathroom due to anxiety and the sheer realization that he shared no classes with his friend. Luckily this time around, him and Annie finally had a few subjects in common, such as their first hour A.P. calculus class. And to his surprise, they would also be sharing lunch break.

In addition, even though he was sure they’d traumatized Colt, he hoped that the kid would still want to hang out with him every once in a while. Colt came off as a very optimistic and caring person, though quite naïve. 

“Yo! Bertholdt!” A feminine voice said from afar.

Bertholdt turned around, seeing a young girl with messy black hair jogging towards him. She wore a long, black denim dress with a white button-up blouse underneath it. She appeared calm, yet had a warm smile splayed across her face. Bertholdt waved back, tapping on Annie’s shoulder to turn around and see.

  
  


“Pieck! It’s so good to see you!” Bertholdt exclaimed, taking her in for a hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good! How about you?” She said.

“Good… look, this is Annie, the childhood friend I told you about,” Bertholdt said, putting an arm around Annie and gently shoving her forward towards Pieck.

“Ah, so you’re Pieck. Nice to meet you or whatever,” Annie mumbled. 

“You too,” Pieck replied with a smile. 

Colt suddenly decided to insert himself in the conversation.

“Whoa, wait! Are you the girl who mentors my brother at the conservatory?” Colt said in shock.

“Who’s your brother?” Pieck asked.

“Falco Grice, short, blonde hair–”   
  


“Ohhh! Falco! No way, you two are related? You  _ do _ look like him a lot!” Pieck giggled. 

“By the way Pieck, do you want to compare schedules?” Bertholdt asked with a smile. 

“Sure!” She said as she pulled the folded-up sheet of paper from her dress pocket.

Pieck also shared calculus with them, as well as art class with Annie and break period with both of them. Bertholdt cheered internally after knowing he’d have two friends to spend time with at school. So far, this year would be the  _ least _ miserable out of all. 

The school doors were finally budged open, and the ocean of pubescent teens flooded into the building. A loud announcement was given to the students through the intercom. All would have to gather at the assembly hall by grade at different hours. Of course, the freshman year assembly would start in only a few minutes. Theirs wouldn’t happen until the third period. They were instructed to attend their other classes just as planned.

The trio parted ways with Colt and headed to search for their lockers, which were unfortunately not close together. Bertholdt’s locker was located right next to the gymnasium, which was disadvantageous. He began shoving his books into the space, along with his messenger-style school bag. He met with his two female friends in their assigned first hour classroom. The three chose to sit at the second to last row of seats in the classroom. Bertholdt and Pieck made small talk while Annie went back to sleep. 

They spoke about the upcoming audition. Pieck expressed her ideas for their performance, and they also spoke about the other things they had done over the summer. The classroom filled up slowly but surely, until the last person to come it was the teacher. He was a tall, dirty blonde man with a large nose and facial hair. No one had even heard him enter until the sound of markers squawking on the whiteboard caught everyone’s attention. The man was writing his name on the board. 

_ Mike Zacharias– Mr. Zacharias.  _

Many did not quiet down, and he made no efforts to stop them. He simply began opening the blinds, making everyone groan at how bright it had become outside. Annie woke up, visibly grumpy from being interrupted so cruelly. 

Mr. Zacharias pulled out a clipboard from his bag and loudly cleared his throat. The room went silent, and all eyes fell on him as he began pacing around. He began sniffing the air. His face turned into a scowl of disgust.

“Someone forgot to wear deodorant today…” He mumbled. 

His attention returned to his clipboard, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

“I’ll be doing roll calls now. I will call your last name, and you will stand up and  _ briefly  _ present yourself. I will refer to you by the name that is easiest to pronounce from now until the end of the year.”

He began calling the students one by one. They’d stand up and introduce themselves, and then sit down again. Bertholdt did not pay any attention to his classmates. None of them had anything interesting to say. All of them induced the same excitement as a cardboard box. It seemed like all his classmates were just as dry as his teacher. Few of them actually caught his attention. Among those, was a girl with ebony hair who dressed in a style he could only describe as goth, paired with a red scarf. However, he had not heard her name. All the information he’d managed to learn about her was that she liked going to concerts and enjoyed embroidery. Which she had expressed in the most passionless voice. 

“Braun? Is anyone named Braun here?” He said, scanning the room. No one replied. “Right then. Next.”

Many more students followed suit. Pieck introduced herself, trying to match the energy of the other people in the room. She’d come off as borderline depressed by accident. When it was finally Bertholdt’s turn he stood up. Everyone glanced at him, amazed by his height. 

“Bertholdt Hoover. I like music and books I suppose,” he said. 

Mr. Zacharias stared at him.

“You’re really tall,” he said. “Move to the empty seat behind you.” 

Bertholdt stammered at Mr. Zacharias’ statement, but obeyed regardless. He sat himself at the seat in the very back row. Annie turned around and gave him a thumbs down as she mouthed “ _ that sucks _ ” to him.

Once the teacher had finished taking attendance, he pulled up a powerpoint presentation and told the class some very brief details about himself. He was married, yet quite young. He also revealed that his wife was currently pregnant with his first child, and that they enjoyed hiking and extreme sports as a couple. After that, he presented the course and all the topics they would be touching throughout the year. 

Bertholdt felt the need to throw up once more, but avoided that tragedy by chugging water from his bottle as quickly as possible. He felt like a zombie. His head was beginning to become light. His eyelids were as heavy as steel; they threatened to shut permanently if he didn’t carry on fighting against it.

A heavy banging on the door startled his consciousness. Mr. Zacharias checked who it was, and decided to let the individual in. A strong, muscular boy waltzed inside, head high. He displayed the brightest, most charming smile Bertholdt had ever seen his whole life. His hair was a sandy shade of blonde. His biceps were well defined. He was definitely popular, Bertholdt thought. He had that same aura that every boy on the football did. Except this one seemed different– much more genuine.

“Care to explain your tardiness?” Mr. Zacharias asked the guy. 

“If I tell you, you wouldn’t believe me,” he said.

Mr. Zacharias shook his head and sighed. 

“Go sit, Mr. Braun.”

The boy accommodated himself at the spot where Bertholdt had once been sitting in before being exiled to the back of the room. Mr. Zacharias finished his presentation, and wrote his EMail on the board for the class to take note of. Bertholdt noticed the blonde guy had not brought anything with him– not even a pencil or a notebook. He watched him look around, staring at Pieck who was writing in her eco-paper notebook. Bertholdt inferred that he didn’t want to ask Pieck for supplies since her utensils were too cute and high-maintenance to be wasted on some unprepared bozo. 

Naturally, he turned around to Bertholdt. That’s when he saw him– his face. Sharp features all around, with the most attractive Roman nose in the world. His eyes were as bright as gold. Bertholdt stared at him for what felt like a millenia. 

“Do you have a pencil? And… maybe a spare sheet of paper?” He asked politely with a chuckle. 

Bertholdt felt hot all around. He ripped a page from his notebook and handed it to the blonde. 

“Yeah… no problem…” Bertholdt said. 

“Thanks!” He said. 

Where had this guy come from? 


	4. At Least it Was Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner's first week of school brings a newfound infatuation with a strange boy which he struggles to suppress. In addition, he learns that a handful of his friends from the server do in fact, go to the same school as him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song: At least it was here by The 88  
> No warnings for this chapter! Also this one is mostly worldbuilding haha

For the next three days, Reiner had been arriving to his first hour class 15 minutes before its end. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to attend. He simply could not get there on time no matter how hard he tried. For starters, his mother had broken the news to him that Porco no longer wanted Marcel to drive him to school. Therefore, Mrs. Galliard had informed her that she would be paying Reiner to be the boy’s personal chauffeur for the rest of the school year. At first, Reiner found this to be pathetic, but he couldn’t turn down an opportunity to make easy cash, no matter how much he wanted to keep his distance between him and Porco. Reiner asked Marcel why his brother no longer wanted to ride to school with him. Marcel’s answer was as blunt as ever: Porco did not want to be seen around in a Fiat Cinquecento. The blonde almost lost his mind after hearing this. 

And so, on the first day of school, Reiner arrived at his friend’s house at 7:20 AM. He waited outside, hoping that Porco would soon exit since the drive from their neighborhood to school was not a short one. However, after 18 minutes of waiting filled with unread texts and missed calls to his friend, Reiner decided to knock on the front door. He noticed Marcel’s Fiat was still on the driveway. As he approached the house, he could notably make out loud yelling and discourse coming from within. Mostly distressed screams originating from Marcel.

The door was answered by his brunette friend, whose face was red with frustration and anguish. He was ushered in without a second thought. Reiner always forgot how big the Galliards home truly was. It was spacious, with a large living room and tall ceilings. The residence was decorated with Spanish pottery and imported paintings. The furniture and tables were warm shades of terracotta and brown, which gave it a very welcoming look. He remembered he’d often come over to play with Marcel. Mrs. Galliard would always have delicious tarts in the oven, which the two boys would happily eat after a long day of activities. Even when Porco was missing, Reiner and Marcel would still see each other frequently and sleep over in whoever’s house was available for them. 

Marcel grabbed his wrist, pulling him up the flight of stairs. Reiner was still confused, for he didn’t understand why the brunette was so panicked. The Galliards’ parents had already left for work, presumably, as there was no trace of their presence in the abode. Marcel slammed his brother’s door open. Porco’s room was dark and large, making it look like an endless cave. Marcel shuffled past all of his brother’s belongings that were scrambled together on the floor. He pulled the curtains wide open, letting streaks of sunlight into the room. Porco moaned uncomfortably, wrapping a pillow over his head as he tossed around in bed. To Reiner’s utter disappointment, Porco hadn’t even left the bed. He was still in his underwear, and his hair was snarled up. A pungent smell of sweat filled the room. Porco hadn’t even showered yet. 

Reiner tried shaking his friend awake, but to no avail. Porco was in a deep state of slumber, and no external movement would be able to bring him back to life. Marcel yelled at him frantically. The brunette looked like he was about to have a mental breakdown. 

“You should go, I’ll deal with him,” Reiner sighed.

Marcel shook his head.

The two boys began looking around his room for something to use as an alarm. An obvious choice was the drum kit taking up a large portion of the chamber, but Marcel protested against it since he didn’t want to wake up the other neighbors. The clock ticked on, and they tried everything possible to wake Porco up without hurting him or sending him into shock. Marcel later revealed to Reiner that his brother had been prescribed with sleeping pills, since he’d been suffering from a terrible (and quite obnoxious) case of insomnia since his return. 

Reiner could no longer put up with this. The three would be severely late to school if he didn’t take immediate action. Reiner picked his friend up potato-sack-style. Porco’s eyes fluttered open, oblivious to what was about to be done to him. Marcel pleaded for Reiner to stop whatever he was doing, but Reiner had already entered Porco’s bathroom. He threw his friend into the tub. Porco flinched after hearing the thud his own body caused upon impact with the hard floor. Reiner turned the showerhead on, not caring whether the water was cold or not. Porco screamed loudly, which let Reiner know that the water was in fact, freezing.

“Wake up, Galliard! You’re making everyone late!” Reiner scolded. 

“Fuck you, Reiner!” Porco yelled, standing up and reaching for the shampoo. “Ack! What time is it?”

“It’s 7:49…” Marcel said. 

Reiner and Porco both turned around. All the color had drained from their faces. One minute until school started, and they weren’t even prepared to leave the house yet. Reiner took the shower head hose and turned the water pressure to the maximum, rinsing his friend violently. Porco whined as his body was being assaulted; he reached for Reiner’s hand, attempting to smack it away. Marcel threw two towels atop the toilet lid. Reiner ordered Porco to get out of the shower and dress as quickly as possible. 

“I haven’t even washed my balls!” Porco protested.

Reiner and Marcel gave the other no time to focus on his appearance. Porco dressed with the first thing he found in his closet, which did not look half bad since his whole wardrobe was basically made up of the same things. The Galliard brothers fetched some protein bars to eat on their way to school. After almost half an hour, the three loaded into Reiner’s vehicle. Marcel stated that it would be much quicker if he rode with the two, so he travelled with them to school that very morning. Reiner and Porco yelled at each other the whole way there. 

The blonde noticed how great of a multitasker the other male was. Porco was looking at himself in the mirror, applying obscene amounts of hair gel as he ate his breakfast with the other hand. All the while he was arguing with Reiner, trying to justify his tardiness with every excuse possible. He continued to change his story each time Marcel and Reiner pressed further on the subject. 

The sun rose in the horizon, glowing down on the automobile like a beam of clear water. The temperature would soon begin to rise, and their bodies would begin to sweat. However, Reiner had always made a point to try and live the present as fondly as possible. Therefore, he opted not to think about how uncomfortable the air would be later in the day. For the meantime, he rolled his window down to let the army summer morning’s breath. He inhaled deeply, reassuring himself that his professor would excuse some first day of school lateness. After all, many wouldn’t even show up to school until next week. 

His online friend, Christa, being one of them. Neither he or any of the other members of the group had received an explanation on why she wouldn’t start school at the same time as her other classmates. He just hoped she’d be okay, wherever in the world she was. He thought it was silly to get attached to faceless strangers, so he forced himself not to dwell too much on his virtual friends’ recreational issues. However, there was one acquaintance who he’d decided to make an exception for, and that was his mysterious violinist named Bertholdt. Reiner felt an unexplainable attachment to him, even though he knew practically nothing about the other. He’d never been so interested in the life of another male friend of his to an extent as such. However, it wasn’t like he was obsessed. It was more so an atypical curiosity to learn more about this individual. 

Bertholdt had actually texted him something right when he’d woken up, which he hadn’t seen until he was parked outside Porco’s home. It was a simple message wishing him luck on his first day of school. It weirded the blonde out; the fact that a random guy on the internet would act so sweetly towards him. But then again, Marcel was like that too sometimes. Reiner allowed himself to assume that Bertholdt was simply a sickeningly kind boy, just like many others he’d met throughout his years. With that in mind, Reiner replied to his friend with an equally good-natured and caring message. He’d listened to Bertholdt’s violin video a couple more times, trying to pass the time.

He’d noticed many things about his friend. He  _ did _ look quite tall, and also skinny in build. His hands looked quite delicate, and his fingers were long and slender. The shirt he was wearing tastefully adhered itself to his frame, giving Reiner an idea of how thin Bertholdt really was. His attention had been drawn to his collarbones– how sharp and elegant they looked, even though only a portion of them was visible. He didn’t doubt one second that his friend was a  _ handsome _ guy, and if not handsome,  _ pretty _ at least. 

Reiner parked as closely to the school entrance as possible, nearly kicking the Galliard brothers out of the car as he gathered his belongings and made a run for it. He sprinted to the main doors, on edge and eager to get to class as quickly as humanly possible. Porco ran after him, still unable to get around properly thanks to his wound. Still, the boy was quite rapid in pace and caught up with Reiner in only a few seconds. 

A woman, probably from the administration office, stopped the trio to question them on why they’d arrived so late. Marcel made up an excuse having to do with his brother’s injury, and the three went off to their designated classrooms. However before doing that, the blonde stopped to toss his belongings into his locker, which was conveniently placed adjacent to the gymnasium. This would be good, as he wouldn’t have to take so long gathering his belongings after football practice and then carry the burden of needing to race back to the exit. 

Reiner’s calculus teacher did not receive him well, but not badly either. The man simply dismissed him, already painting him as a problem child in his mind. The only seat available was located in the second-to-last row, which made him suspicious on why the other kids had decided to leave it empty. Either way, he walked in with confidence and offered all his future classmates a warm smile. The room was full of new faces, whom he’d probably seen before but never cared to remember. Someone in the front group of seats whispered to their friends, evidently shocked that he would be in the same class as them.

“ _ That’s Reiner Braun _ ,” they said quietly. “ _ He’s the quarterback of the football team. What the hell is he doing here? _ ”

“ _ Oh, you’ve got him all wrong. He may be popular but he isn’t stupid. He was in A.P. chemistry with me last year, _ ” their friend replied.

Reiner made himself comfortable on the seat, inspecting it for any gross stains that would deem it unusable. However, nothing was out of the ordinary. Mr. Zacharias wrote his email on the board. It would probably come in handy later, but as he felt around his desk for any supplies, he noticed he’d arrived empty handed. He’d just have to ask the girl to his right for paper and a pen. 

Nonetheless, upon turning, the girl seemed deeply immersed in making her notebook pretty. Her handwriting was immaculate, and the colors of her pen looked abnormal, which told Reiner that they were most likely expensive. Her notebook had brown paper in it, with beautiful printed flowers on the corners. Asking her to rip a page out from her notebook would be inhumane and cruel. In addition, if she were to lend him a pen, he’d probably forget to give it back. 

As expected, he resorted to solicit the supplies from the guy behind him. 

“Hey man,” Reiner said. 

The boy looked up, his forest green eyes fixing on him like a deer caught in headlights. He was so tall. Not so much compared to himself, but that statement was still a stretch. His frame was rangy and lean. He appeared very bony at the joints, especially at the shoulders and wrists which gave him a dainty, almost delicate look in an odd way. His build reminded Reiner of the ending scene from the movie C _ harlie and the Chocolate Factory _ , where Mike Teavee leaves the establishment abnormally long and stretched beyond repair.

But his face– oh his face. He had the most ethereal lips Reiner’s eyes had ever laid eyes on. His cupid’s bow was strongly-defined and elegant, causing his mouth to be permanently stuck at an “M” shape no matter if he frowned or smiled. His eyelashes were long and thick, like the curtains of an opera house. His nose was arched, but not in a bad way. It gave his overall appearance a very pleasing look that not many were able to pull off. Reiner wondered if the boy had modeled for some European red carpet show before. It would explain a lot, since male models for shows like those were required to be skinny to the point of apparent malnourishment, and usually had very beautiful yet perplexing facial features. His hair was dark like coal; shiny and wispier than any other male’s. It looked very soft to the touch. His skin was warm like the sunset– a perfect tan that was subtle yet natural at the same time. It had little to no imperfections, and appeared almost uncannily smooth. 

“Do you have a pencil? And… maybe a spare sheet of paper?” Reiner finally said after taking a mental photograph of his classmate.

“Yeah… no problem…” the boy mumbled. 

After receiving the supplies, Reiner thanked him and forced himself to turn away. The guy was like eye-candy. He just wanted to keep staring at him forever. But the blonde knew better than to creep someone out like that. Eventually, class ended, and Reiner dashed out of the classroom to avoid getting a confrontation from his teacher. He hadn’t even bothered to ask for the kid’s name, but it did not matter anyways. He’d probably forget all about him for the rest of the day unless the other made an effort to engage in conversation.

And right he was. After only half an hour, Reiner couldn’t even remember if he’d ever actually showed up to the first period. Now that he had calmed down from his hectic morning, he could go back to being excited about the things he’d looked forward to since a month ago. For starters, there was Historia, who he was eager to see after a long summer of no interactions. Secondly, varsity football tryouts had been held during the summer, which he unfortunately was not able to be present for due to a family outing. However, Marcel had filled in for him that day as a supervisor, and apparently, the newbies had presented a fair amount of talent and potential. He was very eager to meet the new members that had been selected, and get back to training with the whole team instead of doing everything solo. The fall season was about to start, and he had a good feeling about how everything would play out. Though he was worried that Porco wouldn’t be able to recover for the first game. Their school was not as large as other high schools in the area, and therefore they did not have a large roster of players on the team. There were only about 36 boys on the team as of now, unless some uninformed kid were to try and join in the near future. They couldn’t afford to lose Porco too.

Reiner’s second hour class was art, which he’d been looking forward to since his friend Sasha apparently had that subject in the same hour as him. It turned out to be true, and he was so overcome with joy to see her that he hugged her tightly and picked her up. In retaliation, he got scolded and received a P.D.A. warning. Reiner recognized some of his buddies from the football team and invited them to sit with him and Sasha. 

Sasha Blouse was well liked by nearly everyone at school. They knew her as the girl obsessed with food, but she was also notorious for being a hunting fanatic. Her father worked in the culinary industry, and was responsible for providing meat for four-star restaurants. She’d been on various fishing trips with him, all around the world. There was no one more skilled in that area than Sasha, and every male at school praised her for it. In addition, she was very pretty and had a fantastic sense of humor. 

“Hey, Reiner,” Sasha said as she pulled out a piece of tupperware filled with lasagna out of a shoulder bag she’d been carrying. “You said someone broke your generator a week ago? Who was it?”

“Fucking  _ Porco _ , dude. He came back, can you believe it?” Reiner groaned, remembering that his generator was in fact, still broken. 

“Wasn’t he like, dead or something?” Sasha asked as she stabbed her meal with a fork.

“Apparently not,” Reiner sighed. “By the way… sorry to slip this in but… do you know if Historia shares lunchtime with us?”

Sasha gave him a nudge, grinning sneakily at him.

“Look at you, big boy. You really should get your game on, you know? You’ve only spoken to her, like, five times in your whole life. If you plan on being her boyfriend, you needa step it up,” Sasha said. 

Reiner put his face in his hands.

“I know, I know. But she’s just too much! I don’t know how to talk to her! Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Ah, yeah, she shares lunch with us. But she won’t be here until next week or so. She’s in Palm Springs with her family. You know, wealthy people things.”

Reiner chuckled.

“Aw shit. In that case,  _ I’ll _ be the one marrying rich. How long has she been there?”

Sasha set her container on the table with a slam, wiping her mouth before putting both hands on Reiner’s shoulders.

“ _ All _ .  _ Damn _ .  _ Summer _ . She told me she’s locked up in her room in her family’s vacation home! She’s not even allowed to go in the pool! The only time she ever leaves the house is for church. Imagine that!” Sasha said. 

Reiner’s face fell as he thought about his poor Historia’s situation. It must be awful, being practically under house arrest and not even having the right to getting a breath of fresh air. Especially in such a beautiful and iconic place such as Palm Springs. So much scenery and the only thing she was allowed to see were the paintings on her walls. 

“She also told me that the frat boys nearby keep tossing rocks at her window. She says it’s so frustrating!” Sasha whined. “I didn’t even get to go camping with her this year! Trost Lake was so beautiful… so sad she missed it…”

The rest of the class was severely uneventful. The teacher spurted the usual first day of school bullshit. The only entertaining thing was his conversation with Sasha, who kept making stupid jokes that were sure to get the both of them in trouble for being disruptive. Reiner thanked the heavens that Connie wasn’t there, because they’d surely get suspended in the blink of an eye. 

After that, they had the welcoming ceremony at the auditorium. Reiner chose to stop at his locker to drop off some things. He told Sasha, Connie, and a few of the other guys to save him a seat. As he strutted down the halls, a handful of people called out his name and waved at him, visibly happy to see the school’s golden boy once more. He hugged some of his old acquaintances, making rapid small talk as he made his way through the crowds. He usually was never alone, often walking alongside Marcel, or whoever he found on his way to wherever. But he was in a rush, and there wasn’t much time to stay back to catch up with anyone. 

He tossed some papers into his locker, rummaging through his backpack to see if he’d packed a granola bar or something to eat while in the assembly. It wasn’t lunch yet, but he required his daily calorie intake or he would not be able to endure all the tough training that awaited him. As he gathered himself, he ran a hand through his hair and slammed the metal door shut. He turned his heel to jog back to the auditorium, but was halted abruptly by someone’s body bumping into his. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry,” the person said.

He recognized the voice from before, and looked up to see the freakishly tall boy from earlier that day. Reiner noticed that upon impact, the other male had dropped his belongings, that being, a binder folder and a small pencil bag. Reiner bent down, handing him his things with a smile. 

“No problem,” Reiner said. 

The boy took his things and gave Reiner a nod of gratitude. He fumbled with his lock combination, and the blonde realized that their lockers were right next to each other. Reiner was weirdly glad that he’d be seeing more of this peculiar creature, not because he wanted to pick on him or anything. In reality, he had absolutely no ill intentions towards anyone. Especially not someone he’d never met before, who definitely had not done anything to deserve being mistreated. He simply wanted to learn more about this boy, all while doing his best to not scare him. To put it simply, Reiner just wanted to stalk him when given the opportunity.

“Hey, thanks for lending me your pen today. I don’t think I gave it back to you though,” Reiner said.

The tall male faced him. He let out a smileless chuckle and shrugged.

“It’s fine. Keep it,” he responded. “I have more.”

Reiner leaned against the wall of lockers, opening his snack bar. 

“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you around,” Reiner said with a mouth full of food.

The black-haired boy closed his locker and shook his head.

“N-No. I’ve been here forever...” he replied.

Reiner extended his hand.

“Well, nice to meet you, my name is–”

“NO EATING IN THE HALLS!”

A short man, presumably in his late 20’s, stomped towards him in his blue jumpsuit uniform with a handheld vacuum in hand. His eyes were cold, and sharp as knives. He rolled up his sleeves as he approached the pair. His badge indicated that he was one of the school’s new janitors. His aura was ominous, yet remarkably intimidating at the same time.

_ Mr. Ackerman. _

The man snatched the snack bar from Reiner’s hand, stuffing it into his pocket. He proceeded to vacuum the area where the blonde was standing, which was littered with diminute crumbs that were barely even noticeable to the average human eye.

“Get going, you pigs,” Mr. Ackerman mumbled. He turned to Reiner. “You there. If I see you eating again, I’ll have you sent to detention.”

The taller of the two proceeded to walk away. He gave Reiner a shy wave with a quarter smile.

“See you,” he said to the blonde. 

Reiner tried to go after him, but the crowd appeared to have devoured him whole. There was no trace of him left. Almost like he’d disappeared. For someone so tall and unique, he sure did have a talent for vanishing from existence in less than a few seconds, Reiner thought. The janitor cleared his throat, urging him to get going. However, _ he _ was still on Reiner’s mind. And one thing was clearer than water: he was the most alluring human his eyes had ever had the privilege to see. That boy– he was the epitome of mankind’s greatest creations. How could the heavens have allowed someone so bewitching to exist without giving the mortals a warning?

“Hey loverboy, your crush is gone. You’re gonna be late,” the janitor sighed with annoyance. 

And suddenly Reiner felt like he’d been crushed to soup by a falling plane. He turned to Mr. Ackerman with pure horror and disgust written all over his face. He felt as though everyone had their eyes on him, whispering amongst each other about what had just gone down. The reality of the situation was much different, though in the blonde’s head, it felt like it had just been announced to the world that he’d committed heinous felonies. 

“My… my what now?” Reiner stammered. 

“Your boyfriend just ditched you. Just get your ass to the auditorium and move your foot, I need to get those crumbs,” Mr. Ackerman groaned. 

Reiner’s stomach seemed to tangle itself into a burning knot. He clenched his fist, biting the inside of his cheek as he fought the temptation to punch the man in the face. He restrained himself to not erupt and yell, for that would definitely tarnish his reputation. Instead, he tried to calm himself down and shook his head.

“Not cool, sir. Why would you assume I’m… why would you think that of me? Do I look  _ fruity _ to you? I'm not a fa–”

“Mm. Hold that thought,” Mr. Ackerman said, holding up a finger. He looked down at his watch. “It is still  _ way _ too early in the day to be suspending you brats for using derogatory vocabulary. Anyways,  _ scram _ . Do you want to miss the ceremony?”

Reiner stormed off before his internal meltdown could progress any further. What was he even thinking? Hadn’t he noticed the thoughts he’d been having? Why had he allowed himself to stare smittenly at the tall boy? Everything he’d noticed… every tiny detail about the other male that he’d managed to memorize; why had he done that? Was it wrong to simply admire the looks of someone else with no sexual or romantic implications?

_ No _ .

It was wrong regardless. He shouldn’t be looking at people of his same gender with such amount of regard. It was wrong for him to do so. Now, Reiner did not have anything against homsexual men. In fact, he considered himself an ally. However, the thought of  _ himself _ being that way disturbed him to the core. He could not even imagine himself holding another man’s hand without feeling disgusted. Reiner Braun– star football player, hot guy next door, the king of the school, the most popular and considerably attractive male in the whole place– simply could not merely consider questioning his sexual orientation. He was in no place to do so.

He liked women. And that was the end of the story.

The fact that a stranger would even think of him as a homosexual made him unbelievably mad. Everyone else who belonged to that community– it was okay if it was them. But him? How could someone be so cruel and assume something of that magnitude? All he’d done was stare for a little longer than normal. From now on, he’d just have to look and interact with the other as little as possible. Anything to fight those alarming thoughts. 

The welcoming ceremony was boring to say the least. Principal Smith babbled on about the rules and dress code. He mentioned the clubs that were soon to open, which they needed to sign up for during the week. He already knew Sasha and Connie were going to enroll into the culinary programme. He thought about joining the music club, which mainly consisted of various kids who knew how to play non-orchestral instruments and still wanted an experience to perform somewhere. Usually a small band was formed out of the club which would play exclusively at school festivals. 

The rest of his classes went by slowly. He felt as though he were about to pass out from disinterest. Even during lunchtime he felt inherently detached from reality. He just couldn’t pull his train of thought out of the ditch it had managed to plummet into. If Historia were here, he would not be having such depraved curiosities. Yes, that must be it. Historia was not present, and therefore he was going insane. He just needed to see her face again. That smile had always brought utmost happiness to his heart. He wanted to hold her, pick her up and spin her around. Perhaps he’d propose to her after senior graduation, and they’d get married and start a life by the countryside. He’d have her bare his children and make his lifelong dream of being a father a reality. It was the ideal life for him. But of course, to make that be true he first needed Historia to be his girlfriend. 

Finally, the time for football practice rolled around. He changed into his sports clothes. Since today was the first day, they would not be requiring their uniforms due to the new recruits not having any yet. Besides, it would be a day full of pure workouts and strengthening exercises. Walking back out onto the field made him feel like a deity being reborn. The blue sky peering down at him with its suffocating haze; the trees softly rocking with the languid rhythm of the wind; it was his natural habitat. 

Coach Shadis and Marcel were already there waiting upon his arrival. He requested to be presented to the new members. The others began arriving shortly. Reiner ordered them to sit on the bleachers in the front row where he could study their faces. Porco arrived promptly, stumbling like a drunk as he stood besides Reiner. The coach gave them a very distressing pep-talk about how he was going to work them until they dropped like flies. Marcel asked the coach if Reiner could give some words of encouragement instead, which Shadis reluctantly agreed to.

“I want to give a warm welcome to our new members. I’m Reiner Braun, the captain of the team. We are in for a tough season, but we will bring victory with every game we play. I hope we can all get along well this year. Our goal is state playoffs, but it's fine if we do not necessarily get there. As long as we learn to work adequately as a team, support each other through thick and thin, and put our best foot forward, it will be enough,” Reiner said with a confident smile. “We shall not treat each other as strategic weapons, but as brothers.”

Connie gave him a thumbs-up from the bleachers. Even though he was not a new recruit, he’d still wanted to sit amongst the peanut gallery to get to experience his friend’s speech first-hand. The team was dismissed momentarily while Shadis went to get some weights and equipment. The kids dispersed, some taking a walk around the field and others climbing the bleachers to get some alone time and drink water.

Two new members came up to Reiner. One wore a more genuine smile than the other. In fact, the other was displaying quite an obvious scowl. 

“Hey! We’re new here!” One of them said. 

He got shoved aside by the other boy.

“Oi! Piss off, I wanted to talk to him first!”

“Whoa, whoa, no! No fighting. It’s the first day!” Reiner sighed. 

The one who’d been shoved recovered his place and shook Reiner’s hand.

“Name’s Eren,” he said. 

The other one shook Reiner’s other hand, giving Eren a playful (yet malicious) kick on the shin.

“I’m Jean,” he chuckled. 

The three of them suddenly froze, staring at each other like they’d witnessed a murder. Eren looked at Reiner, and then at Jean. Jean did the same, as well as Reiner. A telepathic wave of eerie understandment was shared amongst the three. The first one who initiated an impromptu chain reaction was Jean.

“ _ You– _ ,” he gasped, taking a step back and falling on his butt. 

“No, it can’t be–” Eren said, eyes going wide.

“Are you guys–” Reiner inhaled. He shook his head. “This might sound weird but I have two friends on a discord server with the same names as you. Sorry if I sound creepy–”   
  


“ _ YOU _ !” Jean yelled at Eren.

“ _ YOU– _ ” Eren retorted. 

Before Jean could tackle Eren like a rabid dog, Reiner stepped between them and held one of the males back. 

“Hey! You shouldn’t be attacking each other. We’re not primates,” Reiner scolded. “I’m more shocked about this eerie coincidence.”

Eren nodded behind him.

“Yeah. Who would’ve thought that the guys in the server would be in the same grade as me– in the same school,” Eren chuckled, shaking his head. 

Jean gave up on trying to obliterate Eren. He sighed and freed himself from Reiner’s grasp.

“Then I’m guessing your friend Connie’s also in this school,” Jean said. 

Reiner pointed at the bleachers, at a boy who was pouring the contents of his water bottle on his head. 

“Better yet. He’s right there.”

In simple words, Connie freaked out too.

That night, Eren announced his findings to the whole server. Which, in suit, led Armin and Mikasa to revealing that they also went to school with the other boys, since the other members immediately assumed that if Armin was Eren’s best friend, he would surely attend the same high school as him. Obviously, it turned out to be true. Even though a good chunk of the group was now aware that they knew each other in real life, they made an untold agreement to not dox themselves yet, especially since many of the others could not exactly be trusted yet.

That being Bertholdt, Christa, and Ymir.  _ Especially _ Ymir, who actually thought everyone was lying.

Later that night, Reiner received a text from Bertholdt again.

**Bertholdt today at 9:46 PM**

_ Wow. This is so crazy >_< are you not overwhelmed by all of this?  _

**Reiner today at 9:51 PM**

_ A little, Jean and Eren almost ripped each other to bits at football practice -_- _

**Bertholdt today at 9:51 PM**

_ Wouldn’t it be insane if u and I went to the same school too? _

**Reiner today at 9:53 PM**

_ See that would actually make me happy since you’re not unhinged like the others _

**Bertholdt today at 9:53 PM**

_ Ahhh thanks but actually I’m glad you and I don’t go to the same school from what we know of… _

**Reiner today at 9:54 PM**

_ That’s mean… >:( why do you say that? You don’t want to see me? >:( _

**Bertholdt today at 9:54 PM**

_ Nononono! No, I mean, because you’d be disappointed haha _

**Reiner today at 9:55 PM**

_ Disappointed????? About you??? _

**Bertholdt today at 9:56 PM**

_ Yeah… i probably won’t meet your expectations that u already have of me  _

**Reiner today at 9:57 PM**

_ I don’t have any expectations of anyone. I just believe what u tell me and what I see.  _

**Bertholdt today at 9:57 PM**

_ And what if everything i’ve told you about myself is a lie? _

**Reiner today at 9:58 PM**

_ I wouldn't know. I’ll just take your word for everything u say _

**Bertholdt today at 9:59 PM**

_ But i’m kind of repulsive irl lmaooo  _

**Reiner today at 10:01 PM**

_ Doubt it. You didn’t look repulsive at all in your video, or at least the parts that you let me see _

**Bertholdt today at 10:02 PM**

_ You will literally cry if you see my face  _

**Reiner today at 10:03 PM**

_ Tears of joy? _

**Bertholdt today at 10:04 PM**

_ U know when u put your face close to a litter box and your eyes start to water? Tears of whatever that is called. _

**Reiner today at 10:05 PM**

_ Why are you putting yourself down?  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:06 PM**

_ I just don’t want you to be disappointed if you ever see me _

**Reiner today at 10:07 PM**

_ Hey… are you okay? You’re acting a bit different than usual. You good? _

**Bertholdt today at 10:08 PM**

_ Yeah I just saw someone really good-looking at school and it ruined my day kinda? Ugh I sound like such a jealous asshole, I’m so sorry. But don’t worry I’m fine.  _

**Reiner today at 10:09 PM**

_ Yeah that happens. I saw someone too and it made me angry. Today was weird, I’ve been missing this one girl the whole day so I’m prolly going insane.  _

Bertholdt took a while to type back. Reiner thought his friend had left him on read, so he shut his cellphone for the night and put on a movie for him and Gabi to enjoy as they fell asleep. But sleep did not come. He stayed up all night with a painful urge to go to the bathroom and watch some adult videos with the hopes of suppressing the thoughts he’d had at school. 

The next two days were almost a carbon copy of his first day of school. Porco, once again, slept in unintentionally. Reiner woke him up in the same way– tossing him in the shower and forcing him to wash himself in under two minutes. On the second day, Reiner purposefully took the long route, wanting to avoid seeing as much of the mystery boy as possible. However, the Galliard brothers were frantic about Reiner taking long, so on the third day, he took the usual route. On that day, Marcel and him also found out that Porco had been taking his sleeping pills at one in the morning since he’d been staying up playing video games in secret. The pills he’d been prescribed had an 8-hour range of effect, which meant he’d probably fallen asleep during his classes too. Marcel promised to supervise his brother and force him to go to bed at 9. 

Reiner got a warning from Mr. Zacharias about his tardiness. They’d already started going over the first topic, and Reiner was more than lost. The only thing Reiner knew was that the integral symbol looked like a squiggly snake. But he did not want a bad grade. He wanted to do his best to keep his GPA as high as he could. So he turned to the girl with the pretty notes. 

“I’m so confused,” he sighed, resting his chin on his hand. 

“I bet. You missed yesterday's lecture too,” she said, brushing her messy hair out of her face.

“Do you think you could send me your notes?” Reiner asked. “Your handwriting is beautiful.”

“Of course!” She giggled. “But someone will have to explain them to you. I’m terrible at that. Why don’t you ask the girl next to you? Her name is Annie.” 

Reiner wrote his number down on a slip of paper, tearing it from his notebook and handing it to the girl.

_ Reiner Braun 202-555-0148 _

She read the slip of paper and smiled. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Pieck.”

The bell rang. He felt a tap on his shoulder, causing him to rotate his head and lock eyes with the boy.

“Hey. Sorry for eavesdropping, but if you want, I can help explain the topic to you,” he said shyly, wearing a tiny smile on his face. 

Reiner didn’t think twice before turning down his offer. However, he did it with a grin and tried using kind words to reject him as nicely as possible.

“Don’t worry, man. You don’t need to do that. You’ve been nice enough to me. I wouldn’t want to be a bother,” Reiner said, getting up.

He tried not to look back, and instead focused on chasing after the goth girl who sat at the front of the room. He assumed she was smart since she was always answering the teacher’s questions correctly. Mr. Zacharias only referred to her as “Ackerman”. Everyone seemed to turn to her when they had doubts, but she had no friends in the class and usually read a book while the other students happily chatted about various subjects.

“Oi!” He called.

The girl turned around, raising a brow. He caught up with her, panting as she’d somehow out-walked him.

“I’m Reiner. I wanted to ask a favor of you,” Reiner said.

“Are you from the server?” She asked dryly.

“Um… yes… what’s your name? Your first name, I mean” Reiner asked

“Mikasa.”

“Oh,” Reiner said. He laughed awkwardly.

“What do you want?”

“Well… I missed everything Mr. Zacharias has said so far. And… I need a tutor. Pieck is gonna send me her notes but I need someone to explain them to me. If you want, we can meet up somewhere and get some coffee. If not, we can FaceTime or something…”

Mikasa shrugged.

“Sure. But I don’t tutor for free.”

“How much do you want?”

“Two bucks per class. See you,” she said as she walked off. 

Reiner was perplexed, but he’d gotten what he wanted. He left the area and prompted to steer clear of his locker for most of the day, not wanting to have an accidental run-in with the other. He needed to keep his thoughts clean, and so far he’d been doing an excellent job at it. He hated acting dismissive with people– no one deserved to be ignored like that. But Reiner needed to keep a level head, and the last thing he needed was for his life to become a sob story about an idiot who can’t come to terms with his divergent sexuality. 

The admission forms for the clubs had been posted, alongside with information about them and which days they would take place, and luckily for him, the music club was on Friday afternoon, from 3:00 to 5:00 PM to be precise. He reached for the clipboard to write his name and email down, noticing that Porco had already annotated himself on the list. He doubted for a second, whether he should join or not, but eventually came to the conclusion that he couldn’t live out the rest of his days being oppressed by the younger Galliard. 

“You’re Reiner, right?” 

A boy with a blonde bowl cut and square framed glasses stood behind him with his hands in his pockets, waiting for the other to give him any acknowledgement. 

“Yeah, hi,” Reiner said as he walked away from the registration table. 

“I’m Armin. Mikasa and Eren said they’ve already met you and the others, so I’m going around introducing myself too,” Armin said. 

“Oh, cool! You should meet Sasha and Connie, they’re sweethearts,” Reiner said. 

“I did! They’re awesome,” Armin replied as the pair strolled through the corridors of the school.

“I’m glad you’re acquainted with everyone then,” Reiner said with a smile.

“Wow dude. You’re really nice,” Armin said, almost surprised.

Reiner looked down at him, brow raised.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, most people on the football team are total jerks, aside from Eren and Connie… and  _ maybe _ Jean. But the media has also portrayed you guys as the worst people on Earth, so perhaps you guys are just subconsciously living up to the status quo,” Armin explained. 

“Yeah, maybe. I suppose people just have a tendency to act according to the label they’re given. They’re just following the path of those who started the stereotypes first. Do you think people feel social pressure to act a certain way because of how their interests are portrayed?”

Armin shrugged.

“Beats me. I have theories but I have no say in which are correct and which aren’t,” he said. “You’re really fun to talk to.”

“You too,” Reiner replied with a smile. 

“We should organize a day out with the server,” the shorter male suggested. “Do you think they’d be down to grab ice cream next week?”

“Of course! I’ve been craving ice cream for so long… poor Ymir, Bertholdt, and Christa. They’re going to miss out on so much fun.”

“Yeah,” Armin sighed. 

The two had walked to the very back of the building, which was the entrance for the kids who rode the school bus. 

“Is yours here yet?” Armin asked, shielding his eyes from the sunlight.

“Ah, no, I don’t take the bus. I live pretty far from here. I have a car,” Reiner replied. 

“Well then, this is goodbye for now because mine just pulled up. Bye! Have a nice weekend!” Armin said as he ran towards his bus.

“You too!”

With that, Reiner walked back to where he hoped Marcel and Porco would be waiting for him. The brothers were on a bench, sharing a chocolate bar they’d bought from the vending machine. The three stopped by Porco’s favorite restaurant, which was a Chinese buffet, and ate a late afternoon snack. Reiner obviously did not pay the bill, since he had very little money to his name. Thankfully Marcel was generous enough to cover the cost of the obscene amounts of food they’d consumed. So much for a snack. 

Later that evening, they went to see if Zeke was around, but unfortunately they were informed that Zeke’s car had a punctured tire, and he was off at the shop trying to get it repaired. What they did find, however, was the boy Zeke had mentioned to Reiner and Porco on their last visit. His brother, Falco, was there too, helping the Jäeger’s pull some weeds from their garden. The older one was mowing the lawn, just as Zeke had stated.

“Reiner!” Falco called out excitedly as he waved. 

“Hey, Falco! What are you up to?” Reiner replied.

“We’re helping Mr. and Mrs. Jäeger with their garden,” the older Grice brother replied, stopping the lawn mower.

“They’re paying us 300 bucks!” Falco announced. 

Porco threw himself out of the car, stumbling onto the lawn.

“Can they hire us too?” Porco asked loudly, and kind of desperately. 

“I’ll ask!” Falco said, running inside. 

Reiner shot Porco a look of disapproval, who simply finger-gunned him in return.

Reiner’s phone buzzed. A text from Bertholdt. He’d finally replied to his other text, almost four days later. 

**Bertholdt today at 6:29 PM**

_ Oh... You have a girlfriend? _


	5. Golden Slumbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bertholdt's depression spirals as he learns more about the reality he's been forced to live. As his health deteriorates, he fears the day he and Reiner will meet. That day, however, might be closer than he could ever imagine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warings: Triggering descriptions of fear of food, depressive thoughts.  
> Chapter Song: Golden Slumbers-Carry That Weight by The Beatles  
> Good luck with this one ;) I enjoyed this very much.

To put things in simple terms, Bertholdt’s first week of school had gone from 60 to negative 90 in only the span of three days. The first few minutes of his first day had been wonderfully enjoyable. Almost  _ too _ blissful to be true. The handsome stranger who’d addressed to borrow school supplies managed to imprint his image into the tall male’s brain, unable to pry it away no matter how much willpower he possessed. Thanks to that, the little to no self confidence went spiraling into a pit, not halting its fall until it hit rock bottom. He’d never felt so disgusting in his whole life. He could not imagine what the other must’ve thought after seeing him. It was embarrassing, having to be associated with the face he was born with. 

Bertholdt had never desired plastic surgery so much as he did now. He’d always hated his nose– it was the thing his loved ones knew most about him. Yet he’d never despised it to this extent. When he went home that day, he could not even stand to look at himself in the mirror without wanting to punch a wall– or himself. His hands ached to deliver a fatal blow to his own face, one that would create a massive, bloody crater where his nose should be. If everyone at school was uglier than him, he wouldn't feel so miserable all the damn time. But to his dismay, reality couldn’t be any more far from that. Every boy and girl appeared to have been birthed by Venus, straight out of the most arresting oysters the sea could ever manufacture.

They appeared to live in the fast lane, where the future was uncertain yet bright. Their faces shone brighter than the sunlight, and their voices rang through the halls like a choir of Gregorian chants in the largest chapel imaginable. They slept peacefully at night, without the dread of living to see another day. Life was beautiful to them. And they were beautiful to the world. Bertholdt knew that if any of his classmates were to go missing, they’d be mourned for months without end and never forgotten. He was not like them. He was different, and not in the good way.

He was a wallflower. Someone stranded in a forest. The person who always got left behind. Nobody ever remembered his name, even if he reminded them over and over. The only one who was ever obsessively wary of his presence was the clock, who seemingly did everything in its power to mock him; it would not let him forget that he was the loneliest guy on the planet. Every tick of the minute hand was like an angry mob screaming insults at him. Hours felt like days. Days felt like weeks. Weeks felt like years. His soul had already lived through eternity and far beyond that. He was a mindless spirit, wandering through his era as though he were looking for that final bit of closure that would allow him to infiltrate the afterlife. And even then, he did not know if the concept of the “afterlife” was even real. If heaven existed, he would surely not be let in. But at least he wouldn’t be alive, which was enough for him. 

That evening, he became familiar with the news about most people on the server knowing each other in real life. Most of them actually went to school together, and had even started making plans to hang out. Bertholdt, for once, was glad that he did not have the possibility to see his friends face-to-face. They’d surely scrutinize him, and exclude him right off the bat. He could not imagine what he would do if that were to happen. If suicide didn’t sound appetizing to him now, it surely would after getting rejected by his commerades. Nonetheless, he still could not help but feel left out from all the activities they planned on doing together. In a world where everything was perfect, he’d be the one treating them to the movies. They’d follow him like ducklings, excited to hear what he had to say about anything and everything.

Reiner and him spoke for a little while. He felt even more revolted at himself when Reiner admitted to putting all his trust in him. He wished he could tell Reiner who he really was– what he truly acted like. But losing him would be a fatal calamity which he would not be able to carry the weight of. He wasn’t lying– but he wasn’t being honest either. The Bertholdt Reiner thought he knew and the real Bertholdt were two different boys. One lived a simple suburban life and was willingly dedicated to his future and his studies. The other one was a wingless bird trapped in a steel cage. 

Though for the first time ever, he decided to open up to Reiner. To tell him a milli-fraction of his truth. But like always, announcing his feelings resulted in even more pain and confusion. Reiner’s day hadn’t been so good either. The reason?

He missed his girlfriend.

Bertholdt read the message over and over, trying to interpret it every way possible. He searched for the explanation that would hurt the least, but every single scenario pointed to the same conclusion. Reiner’s heart already belonged to someone. His face, his body, his voice, his hands; he’d been kissing, holding, and singing to someone that was not Bertholdt. All this time, the tall male had allowed himself to let a random stranger on the internet live rent-free in his thoughts with the hopes of one day seeing his face. He’d created false illusions for himself. Bertholdt had gotten excited at having an attractive man’s attention to himself, confusing it for something else. Reiner had simply been friendly to him. 

Bertholdt could not think of anything to reply. In fact, he could not even think at all. His chest felt heavy. It was a metaphorical sensation of being stabbed repeatedly in the heart. He wanted to throw up. He simply shut his phone off while he gathered his thoughts. He intended on replying to Reiner the following morning, but when he opened the chat, he felt nauseated. He could not read the message and not feel violent towards himself immediately after. 

Forgetting about Reiner would be the best option for now. Instead, he needed to avoid getting seen by the handsome jock boy in his first hour class for his own good. Getting perceived of someone of that caliber made him feel like a fat pigeon plaguing the streets of London who deserved nothing more than getting shooed away by cranky old men. 

Yet Bertholdt’s mind worked in mysterious ways that not even he could understand. He knew what he needed to do for his own mental health. But whenever the blonde would approach him at the lockers, he’d stay and make small talk with him. He felt safe in his presence, while also extremely judged. It was like becoming addicted to the tastiest poison in the world. He shouldn’t drink it– but oh, he couldn’t help himself.

He even went as far as to suggest helping the blonde. It was the perfect chance to get to know him a little bit better, and even distract him from his Reiner-induced insanity. But obviously, his offer was turned down before he could even insist. The blonde jogged out of the room after rejecting him, leaving Bertholdt speechless in his chair. The smile he’d been wearing had died out like a candle in a hurricane. Pieck and Annie had begun gathering their things, waiting for him to get up so that they could walk together to their next class. Bertholdt wasn’t in the mood. He was ashamed, to say the least. How could he have allowed himself to say something so idiotic?  _ Of course _ he’d rejected, what did he expect? A popular boy could not risk being seen around campus with someone like Bertholdt. 

The week ended solemnly, and he held no real excitement for the weekend. He answered Reiner’s initial text with the driest response he could muster; not intentionally, but he just didn’t have any energy to talk to anyone. Not even to play minecraft with his friends. Reiner replied to him rather quickly, telling him that the girl he referred to was not his girlfriend  _ yet _ . But he did not elaborate much further. Bertholdt guessed he’d lost interest in the conversation, which only intensified his depression. Annie called a couple of times, asking if he wanted to have dinner at her house. But he wasn’t feeling well, so he turned her down with a heavy heart. 

He dreaded Monday. He’d signed up for the cross-country team upon his parents request (order), and practice would begin on that very day. He’d also joined the chess team, but that decision had been made on his own accord to at least be doing something he enjoyed one out of the five school days a week. 

On Sunday, he decided to go for a small walk. He saw Colt and Falco riding down the street. Colt stopped his board, almost tripping, to say hi to Bertholdt. Falco also halted his scooter and offered the tall male a warm smile and a wave. 

“Hey Bertholdt, whatcha up to?” Colt asked. 

Bertholdt pulled out his earbuds, looking down at the brothers. He noticed the boys were drenched in sunblock, and Falco was wearing gardening gloves. Colt carried a knapsack, which was packed with what Bertholdt guessed were gardening tools

“Not much. Just out on a walk,” Berthold replied. “What about you?”

“We’re helping the Jäegers with their garden. We’re almost done for the summer,” Falco said. “Wanna come with us?” 

“Hey, yeah! That would be a good idea. Some of our friends are fixing the Jäegers’ roof and deck. Some extra hands would be appreciated,” Colt said. 

“Well… uh... I actually...” 

“Yeah! Come on, it will be fun! Last time the Jäegers gave us ice cream! Plus, they’ll probably pay you too,” Falco said, taking off down the street. 

Bertholdt looked down at his watch, frowning. He’d told his parents he’d only take an hour. Said hour would end in only a few minutes. He didn’t know how he could say no, even if he didn’t necessarily want to go. But at the same time, his mother would go on a rampage about his tardiness. She’d begin to think he was going off to do other things, and he’d never hear the end of it. 

Now he stood in front of the Jäeger household– an eldery couple of which he’d never met but had heard multiple stories of their involvement in his neighborhood and their charity work. Apparently, the Jäegers also owned the community clubhouse, which he used to swim at when he was younger. He also knew that they had a grandson, who lived with them but was rarely ever seen out of the house.

He saw a brown haired boy, perhaps a bit older than him, on the roof with a toolbox next to him. He wore a white shirt that had stuck to his muscles from all the sweat, giving everyone a clear view of the assets he was hiding under his clothes. 

“Marcel!” Colt yelled. “We’re back! I brought a friend!” 

The boy turned his attention towards them, waving down with a bright smile. He was very handsome. 

“Hey! Nice to meet you! The ladder is over there if you’d like to help me place the adhesive patches!” Marcel said. 

“Where are Zeke and the others?” Falco asked. 

“They went to Home Depot to look for some plaster. They’re bringing us lunch too. They’ll be back in forty minutes or so,” Marcel replied. He turned to Bertholdt. “Oh, since you’re here, tell me what you want for lunch and I’ll text my friends. They wanted Chinese food, in case you were wondering.”

Bertholdt noticed his stomach grumbling at the mention of food. He could really go for some fried rice and pork dumplings right now. There was nothing he wanted more than a chance to eat carbs without getting shamed for it. But no. He couldn’t. Not even behind his parents’ back. The calories would still be there, even if his mother didn’t know about them. And they’d turn to lipids and get stored as fat, and he’d gain more weight. His face would get chubbier, and he’d have to get rid of all the mirrors in his house because his own appearance would make him suicidal with just one glance.

“No, don’t worry, I’m not hungry,” Bertholdt said with a forced grin. 

He climbed the ladder, pushing his weight onto the roof. Marcel gave him a hand.

“You sure? We might be here all day,” Marcel said. 

“I actually have a curfew. I think I’ll only be able to help for a few minutes or so,” Bertholdt said, grabbing one of the patches and waiting for Marcel’s instructions. 

“Ah, I see. Well, thank you for your help. I bet those two dragged you here against your will,” Marcel said, referring to the Grice brothers. 

Bertholdt shook his head with a chuckle.

“They’re fine,” Bertholdt said.

Marcel began his work, showing the tall boy how to install the patches and fill the holes. Bertholdt followed his instructions, and together they continued to patch the Jäegers’ roof. There was still much work to be done. Bertholdt could tell the house was old, since much of the wood was rotting and caved in. He wondered how many years the couple had lived there, married, sharing memories and love in the same home. 

“Are you from Paradis High too?” Marcel asked. 

Bertholdt nodded.

“Yeah. I’m a junior,” he replied. “I think I’ve actually seen you before. Are you on the football team?”

Marcel shook his head.

“Nah,” He chuckled. “I used to be. But I tore a ligament and got a pretty bad lesion. I had to leave. I think it was for the best though. I have more time on my hands to do the things I like now.”

Bertholdt stopped to wipe his forehead.

“So you didn’t like football?”

Marcel chuckled.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it. I mean, it was okay. I was mostly there because of my parents. But now I can finally do what I wanna do, yanno? For my future. There’s no point in doing something you’ll end up hating. Nowadays you can get a job in any field. So why not follow your dream?”

Bertholdt did not know how to respond, so he simply nodded. Marcel was lucky to have gotten an injury so fatal it ended up being a blessing in disguise. But in addition, Marcel’s parents had been supportive enough to let him do what his heart desired, even if it all occurred thanks to him getting hurt. And even then, it made Bertholdt think; how would he ever be able to break out of his prison and act for himself? It took Marcel a permanently ruined leg to be set free. What would it cost Bertholdt? What would he need to sacrifice, if he didn’t even have a dream to begin with?

A car pulled up in the driveway, presumably Colt and Marcel’s friends. A boy with blonde-bleached hair stepped out of the passenger seat, holding up a large bag of takeout.

“Marcel! We’re back! We ended up getting burgers!” He yelled. 

Bertholdt recognized that boy from his 3rd hour P.E. class. He, however, did not remember his name because he simply hadn’t been interested in anything he had to say. 

A blonde man exits through the back seats. He looked scraggly, yet somewhat high-maintenance at the same time. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and scratched his beard, snatching the bag of food from his friend’s grasp. He appeared much older than any of them, perhaps in his mid-twenties. This was most likely the Jäegers’ grandson. 

“We brought you the one with mushroom sauce,” the man said.

Marcel shrugged.

“Fine by me,” he said. “Colt brought his friend to give us a hand. We got this whole section done. At this rate, we’ll be done by next weekend,” Marcel cheered, nudging Bertholdt playfully. 

“You should’ve texted us if he wanted something to eat too,” the bearded male complained to Marcel in a calm voice. 

The boy with the bleached hair laughed loudly.

“Ha, don’t worry, man. King Kong over there ordered two burgers for himself. He’ll be glad to share with you,” he said, pointing at the person who still hadn’t gotten out of the car. 

The driver’s door opened, and Bertholdt’s eyes went buck wide after being met with the sight of his nameless stranger who’d rejected his help brutally only a few days ago. The two locked eyes, and the boy almost dropped his phone after flinching. The blonde hung up his phone call and gave Bertholdt an awkward smile.

“Uh… hey. What are you doing here?” He asked, chuckling uncomfortably. 

“Found him on our way here!” Colt said. “He’s a friend from the bus stop, do you know him?”

The blonde boy rubbed his neck nervously, laughing loudly in the most forced way possible.

“Ehehe, kinda! The kid from math! Hoover, right?” He said. 

Bertholdt gulped. He noticed everyone’s eyes were on him, waiting for the blonde boy’s pseudo excitement to be reciprocated. However, Bertholdt couldn’t even fake a smile. He felt like he’d been shot with a tranquilizer, and was slowly losing consciousness. 

“Well, anyways, I’m Porco,” the boy with the bleached hair said. “I’m Marcel’s brother, I take it you two have gotten to know each other?”

“Uh… yeah… hey, you okay?” Marcel said, resting a hand on Bertholdt’s shoulder. “You look kind of feverish…”

Bertholdt flinched. 

“What? Yes. I’m fine. The sun makes me dizzy sometimes,” Bertholdt replied. “Um… what time is it?”

The bearded one looked at his watch.

“Quarter to five. Why?” 

Bertholdt gasped quietly. He’d stayed for a whole hour. And even though he was already more than grounded, he still did not want to stay even one more minute with all of these incredibly attractive and probably popular boys. Especially not  _ him. _

“I’m so sorry guys, but I have to go home now,” Bertholdt said, descending the ladder. “My parents are probably furious that I stayed longer than intended.”

Porco walked up to him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Hey, don’t you wanna stay for lunch? Well, not “lunch”, but what I’m getting at is, we have enough for everyone, right?” Porco said, turning for the approval of his friends.

The blonde boy nodded.

“Yeah. You should eat with us. You and Marcel have been working hard. You must be hungry. What do you say, Zeke? Can we bring out the chairs?” The blonde said. 

The bearded one, Zeke, gave a small nod and went inside. 

“No… I really, really gotta go,” Bertholdt said. “Thank you though. For the offer.”

“Aw, that fucking sucks, man. See you around, I guess,” Porco said. 

Bertholdt nodded. He gave Marcel and the Grice siblings a shy wave before embarking on his journey home. However, he was intercepted by the blonde guy, who grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. 

“Do you… want a ride home?” He asked. 

Bertholdt shook his head, avoiding the other’s eyes by looking down. 

“No thanks. I live close,” Bertholdt mumbled. 

The other rubber Bertholdt’s arm.

“At least take some food home. Your stomach is growling,” He said with a smile.

All the blood in Bertholdt's body rushed to his face. Bertholdt placed a hand on his belly, confirming the other’s statement. He was famished. He wanted to say yes. He really did. But he could not stop thinking about all the grease staining the bottom of the takeout bag. All those patties– processed meat condimented with a million sauces and grilled on an oily stove. He couldn’t allow his starvation to get the best of him. He needed to get home to at least grab a bite of fruit and forget all of these excruciating sensations.

“I appreciate your concern but no thank you. I’m not that hungry,” Bertholdt said. 

“Oh… okay. Then I'll see you tomorrow I guess?” The blonde retaliated. 

The tall male nodded. 

“Yeah. Bye…”

Bertholdt began to walk away, holding in his urge to throw up. 

“Wait! You’ve never even told me your name! Like, your first name! I can’t call you Hoover forever, now can I?” the other called playfully from behind.

Berthold stopped. He faced the blonde for a split second, crossing his arms over his torso as a way to tell his stomach to stop being so loud and greedy.

“Does it even fucking matter?” Bertholdt replied, sounding meaner than intended. Actually, he hadn’t even wanted to say it like that. But the words spilled out of his mouth, and it was too late to take it back. Instead, he walked away, pretending that the other wasn’t still looking at him. 

This was fine. It ached, but it was fine. He didn’t want to know the other by name. Not today, not ever. If they were to start addressing each other properly, Bertholdt would surely get even more attached. Getting his heart broken twice by two strangers was not something on his bucket list. He didn’t want to befriend anyone in real life anymore. Why had he ever thought relying on others would be a good idea? The blonde hadn’t even done anything wrong and Bertholdt already wanted him as far away as possible. He didn’t need anyone else. He had Pieck and Annie, and that would be just about enough to last him from now until the end of high school. He had his online friends too, which were a nice distraction. But unfortunately, he’d learned the hard war that getting attached to people so quickly only resulted in agony. 

Later that evening, Bertholdt didn’t even feel like eating dinner. He checked if Reiner had sent him any messages over the weekend, but there were none. With that, he went to bed on an empty stomach, begging anyone who was willing to listen that he’d die in his sleep. 

The following morning, it was Annie who dragged him out of bed. He’d slept in, and now he did not even have any time to shower. He felt repulsive, still sweaty from the previous day’s hard labor. His hair was greasy, and no matter how hard he scrubbed his face, he couldn’t get rid of the awful pimple that had appeared on his forehead. The only thing he could do was cover it with his bangs. Annie asked him why he was so upset, but he avoided answering the question and instead stayed quiet for the majority of the morning. 

“Gee. I’ve said more stuff than you in the past twenty minutes. Have you finally cracked?” Annie mumbled. 

“It’s nothing.”

Instead of making small talk with Colt on the ride to school, he listened to him ramble on about a movie he’d watched over the weekend. Bertholdt replied with the occasional “mhm” or “that’s nice” where he deemed suitable. The truth was, he hadn’t paid attention to a single word that had been uttered by Colt the whole way there. 

Pieck tried to talk to him too, but he didn’t want to burden her too. She didn’t know him well enough to be aware of all his pains and worries. Not like Annie did. He didn’t want another good person’s concerns. No one warranted to carry his own emotional baggage except for himself. They were his problems, and he had to deal with them like a grown man. 

Bertholdt closed his eyes for a few seconds, promising himself that he’d only sleep until Mr. Zacharias arrived. But those seconds evolved into minutes worth of deep slumber. A strong hand gently shook him awake. Bertholdt blinked a few times, eyelids still heavy from dozing off. Mr. Zacharias stood in front of him, patting his shoulder a couple of times until Bertholdt had finally been brought back to reality. 

“If you plan on sleeping through my lecture, I suggest you simply don’t show up,” Mr. Zacharias said. He scrunched up his nose. “And take a shower, for god’s sake. You smell like a trench.”

Bertholdt nodded, sitting up straight. All of his classmates were gazing at him as though he were some sort of circus act. Even the blonde boy in front of him. His face was reddening with each passing millisecond, and after the teacher left him alone, he sunk into his seat, praying to suddenly go into cardiac arrest. He covered his face with his hands, sighing to himself.

_ ‘You worthless piece of shit. You idiot. Why do you do this to yourself?’  _ He thought. 

He heard a quiet tapping on his desk. Bertholdt peeked through his fingers, seeing the guy in front of him trying to get his attention. 

‘ _ Oh great _ .’

The blonde slid a candy bar onto his desk. He peeked over his shoulder and winked at Bertholdt.

“It’ll help wake ya up,” he whispered, turning his attention back to the teacher. 

Bertholdt stared at the chocolate, taking it in his hands. He used to love those when he was a child. Caramel, with peanuts, drenched in milk chocolate– it was a sweet, delicious taste he could never forget. His parents would buy them for him all the time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that specific kind of sweet. He played with the wrapper, considering eating it right then and there.

But then it dawned on him that the blonde had probably been planning to eat it. After all, he’d caught him digging into snacks like these at random hours during the short period of time he’d known him. Aside from that, the caloric value written on the wrapping was a number he’d have rather not looked at. 

While Mr. Zacharias was pulling up the presentation, his classmate turned to him with a smile. 

“Did you eat it yet?” He asked.

“Oh… no… we can’t eat in class,” Bertholdt said.

“Man, no one cares. I do it all the damn time. Eat it now. He’s distracted. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

“I’m good. I don’t like chocolate anyways,” Bertholdt said, handing the chocolate bar back to its previous owner. 

The blonde frowned, letting out a long sigh.

“Something tells me you don’t really like me,” he chuckled. 

Bertholdt shook his head.

“It’s not– no, that’s not it–”

“Eh, it’s fine. Forget it. Guess you can’t always befriend everyone,” the blonde said, taking his candy bar and turning back to the whiteboard. 

And that marked the end of it all. Not once did the other try to talk to him again, or even force his kindness onto him. Mr. Zacharias announced that they would be doing partner projects for their first assignment. The blonde partnered up with Pieck, and Bertholdt chose Annie. While everyone discussed the project with their partners, Bertholdt stared at his would-be-friend chatting happily with Pieck. They shared the candy bar and laughed about god knows what. 

Bertholdt saw him a couple of times at the lockers. He pretended to ignore his presence, however, he still heard the other utter an occasional “hey” at him. Bertholdt acted like he hadn’t heard anything, and went on about his day as he usually would. 

When 2 o’clock rolled around, he headed to the changing rooms to prepare for his first day on the cross-country team. He wished he could just go home, but regardless, he kept going for the sake of nothing. The field greeted him warmly. The summer air was beginning to grow a bit crisp, which made him feel refreshed. He sat on the bleachers, waiting for the coach to arrive, and began recalling all the races he’d won in this very place. Yes, he was one of the biggest champions on the team. Yet there he sat, segregated from the group. There was at least three meters of distance between himself and the other kids. 

Loud metallic footsteps interrupted his train of thought. Someone was descending the bleachers behind him, making their presence known in the most obnoxious way possible. It was almost as though they were hopping on the benches, hoping for the other students to shut them up but no one did. They just stared and walked away even further. Was Bertholdt the cause of this? Did he repulse his teammates so much that they felt the need to avoid him like the plague?

“Oi!” A deep, female voice called from behind. “Hey, Eiffel Tower! I’m talking to you!”

Classic. Like he’d never heard that one before. And still he rotated his head. A very attractive girl towered over him. Her skin was tan and freckled. Her hair was chocolate brown, tied back in a short ponytail. But her stare was smug and mischievous. He noticed she was wearing men’s workout clothes, in her size, of course. 

“You new here?” She asked, taking a seat next to him. 

“ _ No _ . I’m not fucking new here,” Bertholdt said between gritted teeth.

“Whoa, what’s got your panties in a twist?” She said. 

“ _ Nothing _ . Who even are you?” He let out an exasperated sigh.

“Name’s Ymir,” she said, extending her hand. 

Bertholdt blinked at her in pure confusion. There was no way...

“Um… this is the part where you take my hand and shake it and then tell me your pathetic name… have you never touched a woman before?” Ymir said. 

Bertholdt grabbed her hand, nodding. 

“I’m… Bertholdt…”

Ymir’s jaw dropped. She stood up and paced around the bleachers with her hands behind her head in disbelief as she laughed maniacally.

“No fucking way! No, no, no fucking way! This is a fever dream dude!” She laughed.

“So you and I are the only ones left and we happen to go to the same school? How come I’ve never seen you?” Bertholdt mumbled. 

“Juvie. I was here freshman year and then I got arrested,” she laughed. “But I’m back now so it's all good!”

“ _ What _ ? What did you even do?” Bertholdt gasped. 

Ymir sat down again and threw an arm around his shoulders, ruffling his hair.

“That, my friend, is nonna your business,” she chuckled. “Just you wait till we tell the group that I go to school with you. Boy will they be amused.”

“Why are you even sitting here? All the others are over there,” Bertholdt said.

“They’re avoiding me. Last Friday I beat the shit out of one of those guys for their lunch money. I know, cliche, but I suppose word spread around.”

_ Oh. _

Though it was wrong of him to think like this, he was glad that he, for once, wasn’t the problem and that instead, the group was choosin to ostracize someone else.

“Okay,” Bertholdt said. “Well… I’d appreciate it if you left me alone. I’m not really in the mood for this.”

“Psh. What’s got you all grumpy?”

“Nothing.”

Ymir sighed. She pretended to sniff the air.

“What’s that fuckin smell? It smells like cock-loving slut up in here,” she said. 

Bertholdt felt a cloud of heat around his neck as he gradually went scarlet in the face.

“ _ Huh _ ?” He yelled. “What kinda vulgar statement is that?”   
  


“You’re gay, aren’t you? And your widdle man crush broke your widdle heart,” Ymir cooed mockingly.

“Can you stop?” Bertholdt yelled, on the brink of losing his cool. “None of that is true! I’m just having a bad day, that’s all!”

Ymir let go of him. She lay down on the hot bleachers, letting out a breath of air.

“You’re a bore,” she said. 

Later that day, after coming home from violin practice, Bertholdt decided to text Reiner. He hoped his friend would be able to send something funny or at least cheer, him up, even though deep down he knew that wouldn’t happen. At this point, talking to Reiner was like diving into a pool of needles. But he had nothing else to look forward to. After logging on, he noticed Ymir had already broken the news to everyone, and Reiner had actually texted him first.

**Reiner today at 9:01 PM**

_ You and Ymir????? Srsly?????? Praying for u brother </3 _

**Bertholdt today at 10:11 PM**

_ She’s awful!!!! Literally satan herself _

**Reiner today at 10:14 PM**

_ There he is, the man, the myth, the legend. Where u been the past few days???? We missed u on the mc server :(((((((( _

**Bertholdt today at 10:15 PM**

_ Busy with school :( ugh so many projects _

**Reiner today at 10:16 PM**

_ I thought u were mad at us haha anyways i’m glad my cute lil bertl is back to his normal self, how u been champ? _

**Bertholdt today at 10:17 PM**

_ Cute and little are 2 adjectives that definitely don’t suit me lol _

**Bertholdt today at 10:17 PM**

_ And I've been good. Not much going on, just thinking about stuff _

**Reiner today at 10:18 PM**

_ What kinda stuff?  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:18 PM**

_ Life, relationships, my future. The usual metaphysical teenage bullshit  _

**Reiner today at 10:19 PM**

_ It happens… Anyways, what did ymir do to you?  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:20 PM**

_ She bullied me… Reiner… she’s a felon… she was in juvie _

**Reiner today at 10:21 PM**

_ Fr? She was prolly just joking  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:22 PM**

_ Idk… i’ll see and let u know  _

**Reiner today at 10:23 PM**

_ U should try to flirt with her ;) she just needs a good boy like u to teach her how to play nice _

**Bertholdt today at 10:23 PM**

_ I think she might be a lesbian....  _

**Reiner today at 10:24 PM**

_ O shit ok then do u have any female friends that are nice? Maybe she should date someone _

**Bertholdt today at 10:25 PM**

_ I think she just needs help but maybe she’s just joking who knows. She’s the only person who I know on the track team this fucking sucks _

**Reiner today at 10:25 PM**

_ Go make some friends!!! It’s great to get along with everyone!! You’ll never know how many amazing ppl you’ll meet until you try to make friends! _

Bertholdt felt a pain in his chest. The handsome guy in his class had tried to do just that. Bertholdt was physical proof that not everyone was worth making friends with. If only Bertholdt had been nicer, he would’ve had a brand new person to devote himself emotionally to. But that was the last thing he needed. And he did not want one more person that he’d eventually have to leave behind.

**Bertholdt today at 10:26 PM**

_ Idk… some people shouldn’t be allowed to have friends _

**Reiner today at 10:27 PM**

_ Like who? Hitler? No shit man, but most people are good people. I think you just gotta see the best in everyone but be wary of those who wanna take advantage of your kindness.  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:28 PM**

_ Okay… I’ll try :)  _

**Reiner today at 10:29 PM**

_ And if people don’t wanna be friends with you, don’t force them. These kinds of things should be mutual. If someone is rude to you, they’re not worth your time!! _

**Bertholdt today at 10:30 PM**

_ Oh man, it would be so amazing to have a friend like you :( </3 _

**Reiner today at 10:31 PM**

_ What are u talking about? I’m your friend!  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:32 PM**

_ I mean in real life. My best friend is a girl of few words and her advice isn’t great. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but she’d never say anything like that. _

**Reiner today at 10:33 PM**

_ Oh… well if i knew what you looked like and where you lived I’d visit you :)  _

**Bertholdt today at 10:33 PM**

_ You’re too kind <3 thank u :,) _

**Reiner today at 10:34 PM**

_ Tell u what, on friday, after my football game, i’ll sing you something. Any requests? _

Bertholdt’s heart did a million flips as he held his phone to his chest. Maybe it wasn’t hopeless after all. 

**Bertholdt today at 10:35 PM**

_ Aaaaaa how about you pick this time? I wanna see what u like :,) _

**Reiner today at 10:36 PM**

_ Very well then. Something by the beatles…. Actually u kno what? Get on voice call. I’ll sing to u right now _

**Bertholdt today at 10:37 PM**

_ U make me insane, ok, one sec _

Bertholdt grabbed his earbuds and plugged them into his phone. He buried himself in his covers, hugging a pillow as he waited for Reiner. 

“Hello?” Reiner called out softly.

Bertholdt smiled the dumbest smile he had within him

“Hi,” he whispered. “My parents think I’m asleep so I gotta be quiet.”

“Okay,” Reiner said. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Bertholdt said. “You?”

“Good, good. Alright, here it goes. If you hear anything weird, it’s probably my family.”

Bertholdt snuggled against his pillow and nodded, as though Reiner could see him.

“That’s fine,” Bertholdt whispered.

Reiner cleared his throat.

“Golden Slumbers and Carry that Weight… interpreted by me to you,” Reiner said. 

He began playing the chords– the ones usually done on the piano– on his guitar. He strummed soothingly, giggling a bit to himself as he got the piece started. Bertholdt grinned, closing his eyes as Reiner’s low voice rang through his ears. It was nothing like the original– to Bertholdt, it was even better. How Reiner always managed to sing in key was beyond his understanding. He pushed his voice forward on the loud parts, sending shivers down Bertholdt’s spine. 

Bertholdt imagined himself in his beautiful void, this time with a corporeal form. Above him, trillions of tiny specks of brightness. Reiner’s enchanting voice echoing through the vacant space– a comforting loneliness where his only companions were light and sound. He let his friend's music carry him through eternity. Something about him felt so familiar– so close to home. 

Reiner’s transition between the two songs was carried out to perfection, as was the ending. How he wished Reiner would’ve extended his performance. It was the happiest he’d been all week, which made him realise just how miserable he’d been. He heard Reiner laughing, and his mother yelling a compliment to him from a faraway room. 

“Did you like it?” Reiner asked. 

“I loved it,” Bertholdt replied happily. He sniffled loudly, not even realizing he’d started to cry out of nowhere. 

“Everything okay?” Reiner asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Berthold chuckled as he wiped his eyes. Another small sob escaped his lips. “Sorry, I got emotional out of nowhere. Your playing is beautiful.” 

“Why are you crying?” Reiner asked.

“I’m just so happy,” Bertholdt answered truthfully. 

He never thought tears of joy to be a legitimate thing. And he still didn’t. Because even though he was delighted beyond comparison, he knew the reason he was crying was not the one he’d forced himself to believe. He was grieving. Everything that had happened over the past few years of his life– he was mourning. 

“Aww. That means a lot to me,” Reiner said. “I’ve never met someone like you.”

Berthold chuckled, rubbing his nose.

“Really?”

“Yes. You’re…” Reiner stopped to laugh quietly. “You’re something else.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s good,” Reiner replied. “If we met in person, what would you say to me?”

Bertholdt let out a breathy laugh.

“Well, I’d thank you I suppose. But I wouldn’t let you see my face,” Bertholdt said. 

“Why not?”

“You wouldn’t like me.” 

Friday caught up to him quicker than expected. And it wasn’t that bad. He needn’t get hung up on how he’d brutally massacred a possible friendship with one of the jocks when he had Reiner to talk to. Some things seemed to finally be looking up for him. Ymir had somehow gotten closer to him, to his dismay. But she eventually got the truth out of him that perhaps, he was actually gay. Though he still could not bring himself to say it out loud. So he made her promise to not say a single word to anyone, which surprisingly, she agreed to. She sympathized with his struggles to come to term with his identity, from what Bertholdt could infer.

Bertholdt knew there’d be a football game that day, which had caused eagerness and buzz around the school. His thrill was rooted from a different event he was looking forward to: chess club. And when he arrived, he found a fair share of students already engaged in their own individual games. Bertholdt sat alone at a table, taking out a book while he waited for the session to officially start.

A blonde boy with a strange haircut entered the room with two friends– the goth girl from his math class and a scrawny brunette guy. Bertholdt didn’t pay much mind to it until the blonde cleared his throat, adverting all gazes to his presence.

“Hi, so most of you already know me, but to those who don’t, I’m Armin, the representative of this club. Mr. Berner is running a bit late, but he let me give you the basic knowledge you’ll need about our club.”

Bertholdt dropped his book.  _ Armin _ . Not many people nowadays had that name. But it couldn’t be true. It was most likely just a silly coincidence. After all, what chances were there that he and Ymir had been going to the same school as the others all along?

Arming rambled on about the rules of the club and what they’d be doing for the most part. Mr. Berner arrived late, just as Armin had stated, and took it from there. Armin and his group sat at Bertholdt’s table, but not without asking permission of course.

“Hey, are you–”

“No, I’m not new,” Bertholdt sighed. 

“I was gonna ask if you’re reading “ _ Kafka on the Shore _ ”. I can’t see the cover well. Sorry for snooping,” Armin said. 

Bertholdt blushed. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine. And yeah, I am,” he replied, showing Armin the cover. 

“Is it good so far?” 

Bertholdt nodded.

“Yeah. Kinda strange and overly sexual but it’s nice I guess,” Bertholdt replied. 

“Weren’t you the one who recommended that book to Armin?” The brunette boy asked the goth girl. 

“Yeah,” she replied, opening a bag of popcorn. 

“I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Armin. These are my friends, Mikasa and Eren,” Armin said. 

Bertholdt nearly fainted. It felt like his organs had stopped working for a second. Was he finally having an aneurysm? This was not happening. Not now. If those three were here, then it meant that Reiner was off somewhere in the campus, wandering the halls. Perhaps he’d seen him already and hadn’t even known.

_ Here it comes. _

Bertholdt stood up quickly, running out of the classroom and ushering a quick apology. He almost kicked the bathroom door open as he collapsed in front of a stall, emptying the meager quantity of food that had been put into his stomach throughout the day. After all his vomit had been dumped into the toilet, he coughed up phlegm, followed by a scarlet fluid which he could only guess was blood by the iron-esque taste in his mouth

_ This is bad. _

He rushed back to the classroom and told the teacher what had occurred, making up a lie about how he had lactose intolerance and had experienced a secondary effect due to a yoghurt he’d eaten during lunch. He used that same lie on Armin and his friends.

“Here, have some water,” Eren offered, handing him his bottle. 

Bertholdt thanked him and took a sip, closing his eyes for a second as he gathered his surroundings. According to this logic, Reiner went to Paradis High too. He was here. He was  _ real _ . 

“What’s your name?” Eren asked.

Bertholdt sighed.

“Don’t… don’t freak out…” he replied. “I’m Bertholdt.”

“What the actual fuck,” Eren said as he and Armin exchanged the same look. “This is a fucking matrix glitch I swear.” 

Bertholdt leaned forward.

“By any chance… you’ve met Reiner, right?” Bertholdt asked as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. 

“You haven’t?” Mikasa asked. 

“N-No? Why the fuck would I…?”

“I’m pretty sure he sits in front of you in math,” Mikasa said. 

More vomit. But this time, Bertholdt swallowed it down along with all the other feelings he was on the brink of experiencing. Emotional numbness. That’s what he felt. The same sensation one would go through upon coming home and seeing your whole family decapitated in the living room. He simply did not know how to react. His body was paralyzed, as was his face. He didn’t know what to feel… 

“Is… that so?” Bertholdt said quietly. 

“Yeah. He’s here right now, actually. He’s in the music club,” Armin said. “Is everything okay?”

Bertholdt shook his head.

“Yeah, everything is… fine…” 

“Wanna go see him?” Eren asked. 

“Huh?” 

“Yeah! Mr. Berner’s letting us out early since it’s the first day! You should meet him! We’re actually planning to get ice cream tomorrow, so it’s best if you introduce yourself today if you wanna come with us.” 

The final five minutes in the club felt excruciatingly long. Bertholdt’s stomach spun like a whirlpool, threatening to push out more gastric juice. He felt like he was being tortured slowly, without the ability to scream or cry for help. Like he was underwater, drawing but not being able to die. When they were finally dismissed, Eren led them through the halls towards the music room. He could hear someone singing, and noticed just how familiar the voice sounded. Bertholdt’s head was becoming light. 

Eren knocked loudly on the door. He turned to Bertholdt.

“He’s gonna be so happy to see you,” Eren said. 

‘ _ This is it, Bertholdt. Run away. Chicken out. Don’t let him see you. Just go home.’ _

“Who is it?” A male voice said from inside the room. 

“It’s me! Eren! Is Reiner there?” 

The singing stopped.

“Yeah I’m here. What do you want dude?”

“Reiner, we have a surprise for you!”

“Ah, fuck y’all, just tell us or we won’t open the door,” Ymir yelled. 

_ Ymir was in the music club? _

“We brought Bertholdt!” Armin said excitedly.

Footsteps growing closer. Bertholdt was stuck in place. He wanted to make a run for it, so badly. The door was unlocked, and it slowly revealed the person who he’d feared the most. Reiner Braun, the blonde guy from his calculus class, stood on the other side. He held his guitar with one hand, and the other slowly slipped away from the doorknob as it shook nervously. 

“Bertholdt…  _ you’re _ Bertholdt….”

Bertholdt gasped for air, about to say something. But he suddenly felt like he was falling. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his world was enveloped by darkness as he felt his head slam against a hard object. 

All the light from his surroundings had disappeared. 


End file.
